Young Writers Society

Milo-Elliott (Or Milelliot as the Voice just decided he should be named) looked the shambling flesh-robot up and down.

At the very least we can scratch high fantasy and romcom off our lists of genre for this world.

Unless it's a romcom featuring flesh robots...

Touche. But how will we know?

Well, since this still might be a very realistic simulation, we really can try to be more asserivey

"There's only one way to safely find out if this is In fact, a real danger," Milo said to the group, who seemed to generally be leaning towards the alleyway.

Stepping toward the thing shambling in their direction, he rose a wrinkled hand in a slowly, hopefully friendly-looking wave.
"Hello there! Are you a friendly flesh-robot, or a not-so-friendly robot?" He called, his voice bouncing of the walls lining the street.

After a few seconds of silence, it seemed the thing was either mute, or just slow at processing what he said.

I don't know what you expected. Zombies and robots aren't really known for talking much.

We can't just assume everything is trying to kill us.

What did you expect? For the thing to invite us all for some tea and scones? Or have you forgotten about...

You know I haven't forgotten about that yet. And this is nothing like that. At least, we can hope so. For everyone's sakes.

Focusing back on the flesh robot, Milo suddenly noticed it was moving faster, its shambling having gone from typical undead movement, to more purposeful "I'm-gonna-take-your-lunch-money".

Turning around, he smiled guiltly as followed the pigtail person towards the alley. "Anyone got any other suggestions?"

Stephanie glanced between Elliott and the approaching robot with glowing green eyes, hands already moving for the gun underneath her jacket. She hadn't want to bring up the gun yet - hoping that doing so would let her forget Jason had it on him in the first place - but it looked like drastic times called for drastic measures.

But just as her hand rested on the gun's grip, the robot came to a stop.

Stephanie froze.

Her first thought was to take advantage of the opportunity and shoot, but then she realized this might be her next best shot at figuring out what was going on. She didn't remove her hand from underneath her jacket, but her posture relaxed.

"Go," the robot said. Its voice was muffled by loud static, almost like someone was trying to flip through the channels on a radio but they kept finding the ones with poor signal. "Camp. Us."

Stephanie didn't move.

"Go," the robot repeated, its voice louder and more insistent.

And then the robot turned away from the group and their alleyway, seeming to have forgotten that they were even there to begin with. Its gaze fell on them as it walked past, but its glassy eyes had a glazed look to them. Stephanie held her breath - hand still on the gun - until the robot was long gone.

Lacey's heart didn't stop pounding when the robot left them alone. Jason still had his hand on the gun, and seemed to be shaken up by it too.

"Do you know what that was about?" She asked Jason. "You seem to have a better idea of why we're here."

Stephanie let out the breath she had been holding right as Anna asked the question. The robot was gone. It wasn't going to hurt them. She wasn't sure what had just happened, but it looked like they were going to be alright.

Then she realized that Anna thought she knew what was going on.

She glanced between where the robot had been and where Anna was, her brain still processing the question. The little bit of adrenaline the encounter had kicked up was only just beginning to go back down.

"I don't know what that was," she finally said. She hesitantly removed her hand from the gun; she wasn't really sure she would have used it in the first place, but she wasn't going to be using it now. She looked back at Anna. "I've never been here before, and I've never encountered a robot like that before. I've seen strange things in my city before-"

She glanced back in the direction the robot had gone.

"-but never things like that. I just know it's good to be as cautious as possible."

James had only retreated into the alley as much as everyone else had. He wanted to get away from the robot, but he wanted to stay in the group. He didn't trust anyone, really, but the people around him seemed to be genuine, and alive, so they were a step above the robot.

"It is good to be cautious," James said, feeling the fake personality wearing on him already. He had many more things to say, and all of them were bitterly sarcastic. The mask didn't fall yet, though.


"The robot told us to go, but it didn't say where. Either it was a warning, or instructions to find some camp - presumably, where the rest of the robots are. Not that I want to do that, but I'm just, well, you know. Hypothesizing."

Once they'd moved in the alleyway, it seemed like they were safe. At least for now. But if the robot had wanted to hurt them, it would have, right?

She wanted to tell the others a story. About Mathis and how he'd mentioned that society was becoming dangerously likely what had been foretold in every science-fiction story where robots had risen up and taken over humanity. Or AI had gotten so advanced you could no longer tell who was human and who wasn't.

And yet, as she tried to open her mouth and mention it, no words came out. Lacey wondered if it was because she was in Anna's body, and Anna didn't know Mathis. It would explain why Lacey had been unable to say her name her earlier. But that didn't make sense. She still felt like the same person, with all of Lacey's thoughts and memories. And yet, she couldn't express herself as Lacey would.

"Look," Lacey started, figuring she'd give her name another try. "My name is Lacey Whitman." but what came out instead was, "My name is Anna Hughes." And when she tried to say, "I was born on August 2nd, 1997," what came out, "I was born on October 16th, 1917."

Fuck's sake. Lacey screeched. When she calmed down, she thought of an idea, and it was so simple she didn't know why she hadn't thought of it before. "Does anyone have a pen and paper? We could try writing down our real names?"

Queenie leaned against the alley wall and watched the others gather at the entrance or just inside. The knife had slipped back into her palm as the others had their encounter with the robotic pedestrian, but she tucked it back away when nothing dangerous happened. A quick glance verified that no one saw, not that she was worried. They'd have to be looking pretty closely at her closely at her hand at just the right moment to see her take it out or put it back. It was virtually invisible otherwise.

When not-Anna had her little freak out, though, Queenie raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you so obsessed with sharing your real name?" she asked, rolling her - Briar's - eyes, "Think of the one you're using now as a nickname or something. We're all from different worlds, anyway, so wasting time on that is ridiculously stupid. It's not like we'll recognize each other."

I like this pigtail girl already!

The group had moved into the alley, again, and were discussing their situation, again. Pigtails, who Milo thinks was called Briar or Bree or something like that, seemed to be a no-nonsense kind of person, and he immediately liked them.

"I agree with her that we shouldn't get stuck trying to bring back ourselves until we know where we are." He realised how much like his grandfather or older uncles he was sounding

Honestly, it could be worse. You could've sounded like yourself.

Now you're just being harsh.

Am I lying though?

Trying his best to focus on the group again, he continued speaking.

"However, I also think we should try and and find a supply point, or store or something. At the very least, we don't know if we need food or water in this place, and we can't stay in an alley forever."

Lacey ignored the fisherman for now, even if she knew that he was right. Obviously, they'd all find food and water eventually, and she was curious to find out where they were. But she wanted to know why she wasn't in her body.

"I'd like to be in my own body. Didn't think that was a controversial opinion to have," she told the dark-haired girl. "Also, if it's 'so unlikely' that we'd recognize each other, why were you staring at me earlier?"

“You’re pretty rude, you know that?” Queenie said, once again rolling her eyes. “I was staring because this body of yours looks a lot like one of my exes at a glance. If I was in the same place as that ex in particular I was going to get out of here. Why the hell are you so suspicious of everything?”

Stephanie stepped between the two.

"Now isn't the time for fighting," she said. There was only one robot right now, but she wasn't sure if they were more elsewhere in the city. Even more worrying, there was still the question of why the robot had acted the way it did when it saw them. It had spoken to them. Then it had looked as if it didn't even register that they were there, much less that it had just been talking to them seconds ago.

Stephanie wasn't sure what that meant, but she knew that it was best to run away from potential danger.

And she also knew it was easy to take down a group when its members were bickering.

She glanced over at the girl who was arguing with Anna.

And as she opened her mouth to speak, she realized that she still didn't know the girl's name. She hadn't ever offered it. That's a clue, Stephanie thought, biting her lip. She didn't know towards what. But Arthur loved clues - loved riddles, even though those were Uncle Ed's thing - and Stephanie couldn't help but latch onto any oddity she found.

She pushed the thought away. She could worry about the lack of trust she suddenly noticed she had towards the others later. She had to get through this if she wanted to find the real Jason.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to share our names," Stephanie agreed, "but there's also no reason to be accusing each other right now. We need to get out of this alleyway, and Elliott's right. A store has things to write with and food."

She glanced out towards the street. None of the buildings looked like the stores she knew, but her gaze finally landed on one across the open street that had items in a glass window. That had to be some kind of store.

She pointed her finger towards it.

"There's one," she said. "We just have to cross the street to get to it."

The bickering was annoying and incessant, but Kaya knew it was best not to get involved. From what she had gathered, apparently they couldn't say their names or anything of their past identity. Not that Kaya would even want to try... Being Saya was much more appealing than her current life.

Luckily, Jason ended the aggravating bickering and suggested that they actually follow the old man's—erm, Elliot's—advice and visit the nearby stores down the street.

Kaya nodded. "That's a good idea. Let's get supplies and then figure this out later." She paused, trying to think of things they'd need. "We'll need food, water, maybe medical supplies... and maybe weapons. We might encounter more of those things and they may be aggressive."

Honestly, Kaya couldn't care less about their identity situation right now. She didn't even bother reiterating to the irritating blonde girl—Anna—that she had papers she could use.

She didn't bother to wait for the other's opinions because she didn't have the patience to hear more arguing. "Let's go," she said, turning her heel and walking back towards the street.

James hoped direct action would stifle anyone's complaints for the time being. They were in the same boat, and what they needed to focus on was finding answers so they could get home, and this whole thing could be over-with.

He looked to the others and followed Saya with his hands in his pockets. He kept a close eye on the street as they crossed though, and searched the windows of the approaching store for signs of life, or more robot people.

Milo followed the two people who had begun walking down the street (not before casting a wary glance up the street to where the zombot/rombie came from, and then in the direction it had gone) Following behind, he looked up at the sky, trying his best to determine what the time was, if time was a thing here.

That thing mentioned a camp. Do you think it wants us to make or find one, or just that it has on?

No idea. Either way, sticking together is much better than being alone, even with a hook in our jacket.

Increasing his pace somewhat to catch up to the two, he pointed up at the sky as they reached the first intersection not too far from the alley.

"What time do you think it's supposed to be here?" He asked. "I, for one, wouldn't want to be caught outside whenever it becomes dark."

If it becomes dark.

Stephanie looked at where Elliott was pointing.

The sky wasn't too dark yet. The sun, though it was hard to initially find, was peeking out from behind an incredibly tall building. She wasn't going at reading the time of day, but she thought she could make a good guess.

"I think it's the afternoon," Stephanie guessed. She glanced down the street; there was no sign of the robot from before. Thankfully, she didn't see any other robots - though she was sure there had to be more. It didn't make sense for there not to be.

She started across the street.

When she reached the other side, she peered inside the shop's windows to make sure it was really deserted. A quick, cursory look proved that it was.

She pushed open the door. A single, tiny automatic bell rang as she stepped into the shop, but she couldn't see a physical one hanging above the door. Everything about this place seemed cold and automatic. A few lonely plastic baskets had what looked suspiciously like some kind of rocket or booster attached to their bottoms. Dusty screens hung on the end of every aisle, and little flickering electronic signs labeled all of the different wares.

The store reminded her of two stores she hadn't been to in a long time: the grocery store in the center of town, and the Rite-Aid a little farther down the street. Jack and her had a tradition of getting school supplies at the Rite-Aid and then swinging by the grocery store to get some ice cream from the ice cream shop they had out back. This place was a blend of the two. It made her feel nostalgic, even though it had little in common besides the size and what it was selling.