There was a cracking noise as the ornate ball of his cane struck Ivan’s head, the jagged details piercing delicate silicone skin. He whirred and ground, parting his lips to make an unnerving, screech-like beeping noise, eyelids fluttering violently. Viscous silver fluid began spilling across his face as the lights of his eyes dimmed briefly under the strain of an emergency reboot. He slumped, then convulsed, and stiffened, every tiny mechanism in his body hissing and clicking loudly as it struggled to pull him out of critical failure; then he relaxed, and looked up. In front of him, Dominique stood in a statuesque pose, his fine cane poised between his legs, both hands folded imposingly over the ball as if he had never struck him, despite the tell-tale rivulets of artificial blood dripping from between his fingers, staining the black wooden body of the cane.
He reached up slowly, fingertips brushing his temple softly. Immediately, pain shook his body, every sensor in the vicinity going haywire. His titanium skull was caved directly over the temple, tiny slivers of his false flesh shorn away by the after-swing, leaving the tender sensory film exposed to the air. He could feel something grinding just below the wound, its mechanical function hindered by the sudden inward shelf of metal. In a self-preservative manner, he ran a system’s check, only to find several sectors completely offline. He parted his lips, intent to ask for help as the near-foreign sensations of panic began to rise up, but when he spoke, his voice was not his own; the words instead hammered out in tinny, metallic tones as all auxiliary functions began to shut down.
“Warning: Critical failure.” He blurted, his own words scaring him as he began to shut down. “Immediate assistance required, master.”
Immediate assistance required.
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Author's CommentsComments
 Gorgeous, as always. Particularly beautiful. I adore the mechanical parts, and the idea of silver blood, and his gasps for help. Beautiful. Sorry, lame comment is lame.
You should actually critique me sometime.
 /shoos you towards it -- I'm a neutrois; I am not an androgyne. Please respect the difference. I prefer Ey (he/she), Em (him/her), Eir (his/her), Eirs (his/hers), and Emself (himself/herself).  I have to admit that I'm not entirely familiar with these characters, but your description is beautiful and detailed, as always.
I really felt like I could understand the struggle better from this couple paragraphs of prose than any lengthy expression. Your portrayal of emotion is so vivid that only these few words paint such a beautiful portrait. You have a gift, babe. Don't let anyone tell you any differently, not even yourself. I would critique if I had a subscription. But I do not. ;-; Aw, you must have a subscription to critique?
-- I'm a neutrois; I am not an androgyne. Please respect the difference. I prefer Ey (he/she), Em (him/her), Eir (his/her), Eirs (his/hers), and Emself (himself/herself). XD I don't know how to critique. I love everything. I'm too nice. XDDD
Dumb, isn't it?
Very.
Do so in the comments? -- I'm a neutrois; I am not an androgyne. Please respect the difference. I prefer Ey (he/she), Em (him/her), Eir (his/her), Eirs (his/hers), and Emself (himself/herself).  To quote a much better man then me...
That's fucked up, dude. Maybe it's just because of the soft spot I have for anything remotely resembling sci-fi anything, but damn. That's just heart-breaking. You're on a roll, here, aren't you? -- "I'm not gonna say, you know, there's plenty more fish in the sea. I'm not going to say if you love her, let her go. And I'm not going to bombard you with clichés. But what I will say is this... It's not the end of the world." ~Ed, in Shaun of the Dead  Oh holy hell.
I still hold you as the queen of angst. You know that, right? Whether I'm tearing up, or my stomach's getting that sinking feeling, it never fails. Goddamn, I love your writing.  -- .:Rawr:. |
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Critiques
He doesn't have long. Please tell me Dom saves him, right? He really does love Dom, he could save him, right? He has all his files backed up...
Seriously, though, this is painfully sad. All Ivan ever wants is to make Dom happy, and again and again he fails. It's so heartbreaking. Yet even though he's so abused, he still loves Dom, and I really feel it in this piece. Even though Ivan is mine and I know all this, those last few lines emphasize it.
I want to severely fuck these rating stars from existence.
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