robot
11/2/22- this was a visual image prompt of a robot-looking lady with what looks like a camera-shaped thingy in her forehead. i was kinda thinking of fallout when i wrote this lol. i love synths hgrhrOUHAOuyhiha
“What’s a pretty lady like you doin’ around here so late?”
The sturdy-looking bouncer, cigarette wagging between his lips as he spoke, leaned on the tiled walls leading into the lounge. As expected, he was being quite useless. The neon red lights reflecting on both of their forms almost hid the fact that the entrance was crafted from a subway station.
“I’m here for the same as anyone else,” she said, meeting his eyes and studying him carefully. She stepped to the side and continued down the steps with grace.
“Don’t get into too much trouble, now. I don’t wanna lose my job.” The bouncer was already opening a new pack as she disappeared into the lounge.
Once she descended down the steps she was greeted by the bar and the lounge singer, his soft voice accompanying the charismatic jazz of the stage. The robot bartender simply waved a metal claw at her as she entered. She took a seat before the singer and watched his performance. She studied his movement, his lips, the way his eyes traveled across the audience but constantly locked eyes on her and her only.
Perfect, she thought, putting on a bashful visage. This will make my job a lot easier.
When his performance was up and he made his way to the audience, he immediately stopped before her and leaned onto the table.
“You’re new here,” he said. “Came to see the red rose of the city?”
The lady mustered a coy smile and leaned forward as well.
“I suppose you could say that.” She had been told that this ‘red rose’ was known for exchanging intimate welcomes to the prettiest female members of the crowd, as well as rubbing elbows with those she needed dead the most. It would be simple to don a pretty disguise and get his hollow skull ready for a quick juicing. She thought of what a clueless, seductive woman might say at this moment. “…Would you…like to show me what a good time looks like around these parts?”
The ‘Red Rose,’ also known as Kent around these parts, let a smile crawl up his fleshy cheeks.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he said, taking her by the arm. That was quite easy, she thought, letting him sweep her away into the backstage rooms. “You talk real funny,” he remarked once they entered his personal room.
“Thank you,” she said, grounding her lower joints into the carpet. A proper lady needed to be unmovable when executing war criminals. “Do you mind if I slip into something a bit more… Comfortable?” She asked.
“Be my guest,” said Kent, already beginning to shed his cheap garments.
With that confirmation, the lady’s forehead blossomed like a flower, splitting in two to reveal a meticulously designed contraption that nestled deep into the mainframe of her head. Kent could barely react before a white hot dart of light shot from it and landed between his eyes, stiffening his entire body and dropping him to the ground. She let her arm shed onto the floor and revealed a great, thin blade, which she thrust into his neck and held still until he fell limp.
“All clear,” she spoke into her arm, dragging his body into the wardrobe. “Kent has been eliminated. Now tell me how to get out of these loathsome heels…”
“You’re on your own there,” a crisp distorted voice spoke from a little speaker in her arm. “Now get back here, and bring some drinks, will you?”
“You’re lucky I agreed to come here in the first place. Jazz isn’t really my thing.” She began to rebuild and reattach her disguise, but as she did, someone rudely entered the room.
“Hey Kent, you’re due…uh…” The underpaid worker locked eyes with the lady, still getting into her old arm.
“…Don’t you know it isn’t polite to walk into a woman’s room while she’s changing?”