Young Writers Society

Cyra crossed all four of his arms, eyes narrowing at this person. “That can change if you prefer.”

Two hatchets hung from xer hips right, tucked beneath the tails of his coats. Not to mention the battle-ax on full display on her back. If anyone wanted to try anything, Cyra was more than prepared.

“What do you want?”

Sage thought for a moment. "Some hex bolts and sheets of stainless steel would be nice." Then she caught sight of the person's weapons and frowned. "It's been a while since I've seen hatchets or a battle-ax. At least, non-modified ones. You're old-school, eh? That's cool, that's cool."

Cyra shook her head, exasperated. “Modified battle ax? How would you change it, make it out of diamond?” He shoved his hands deep in his pockets. “Clearly you don’t know anything about weapons.”

He looked around, only to see no one wielding obvious weapons. No clubs, revolvers on their waists, or even canes. “Does anyone here know anything about weapons?”

“Pure energy battle-axes? Hatchets that fly through the air of their own accord and cleave through metal like butter? Ionic weapons?” Sage frowned. "Hmm. Where did you say this place was again? There's a noticeable lack of demons, lava, and smog."

A couple paces away, a few people in lab coats started pointing at Sage and Cyra and whispering.

“I have no idea what the hell you’re saying.” Cyra glared at the passers-by until they flushed and stopped whispering. “Hatchets don’t fucking fly around like bloodthirsty pigeons.”

They readjusted their top hat, the intense pressure of being in a place they didn’t recognize building in their chest. “And demons don’t shake hands with man, even if you believe in that nonsense.”

Sage gave Cyra an odd glance. "Well, ever since Hell collided with Earth, they do."

Suddenly, one of the animals ran a little closer to the pair, and Sage gasped. "Robotic dogs?" She immediately knelt down and beckoned the robot closer. "C'mere, puppy. Who's a good robot animal? You are!"

Sage started muttering under her breath. "Their joints move so smoothly... fascinating. What power source do they use? Who created them? Oh, leaping saltwater oysters! This would change my ideas for the pet-helper robot dramatically... of course, throwing balls would still work, but there would be no need for food or water. That would lighten the design... but what could I add instead, hmm?"

Cyra could feel steam pooling underneath his top hat. He lifted it, ever so slightly, to let the steam escape. “Hell and Earth colliding?” He shook his head. “I suppose that’s one way to put it. Are demons the House then, because I can’t disagree with you.”

She growled underneath her breath. “Good for nothing leeches. I’m sure they’d sell Hell like it was the suburbs.”

"Now then, I don't suppose there are any metal workshops nearby... Perhaps I can write these ideas down? I don't trust myself to remember them." Sage took out a tiny pen and a candy wrapper from her arm compartments and started scribbling, ignoring Cyra completely.

One of the scientists tapped Sage on the shoulder. “Excuse me? Is this your android.” They pointed at Cyra.

Cyra scoffed. “The hell? I’m right here.” He gestured to himself. “And I’m not anyone’s anything.”

Sage glanced up at the scientist with a faraway expression on her face. "Yes, 0.2 millimeters should do well." Then she turned back to the wrapper and continued sketching and scribbling.

The scientist stared at Sage for a moment, then gave Cyra a closer look.

Cyra glowered at them. “Can I help you?”

They gave xem a strange look. “What make and model are you?”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Cyra’s lower hands rested on her hatchets.

Sage muttered, "Make and model. Yes. Very important when you're doing repairs."

The lab technician ignored Sage and beckoned to a few other scientists. "Think this is a rogue android? Seems to be in denial about being an AI. But they don't look human." They gestured at Cyra.

Cyra growled. "That's because I'm not." She crossed the arms that weren't resting on her hatchets. "But that doesn't mean I belong to anyone."

The scientists milled around Cyra, about half of them standing taller than him. That was wrong. Humans weren't taller than subterra.

One of the robot animals wandered over again, and Sage immediately bent down to pet it. "Okay, sweetie, let me just check your CPU..." She probed around its head for an opening.

"Hey! Don't touch that!" A scientist in a red lab coat ran up and glared at Sage. Then his attention was directed towards Cyra, and he frowned. "These two shouldn't be here."

"Are they androids?"

"Who cares?" Red-lab-coat glowered at the lab tech who'd asked the question. "This is private property, remember? For our pursuit of science."

Cyra groaned. "If this is private property, then I can leave! And you can all fuck off."

One of the scientists grabbed Cyra's arm. "Ah! It's made of stone."

Cyra shoved them with all of their might, sending them stumbling into the crowd. "Get off of me!"