[SIDESTORY] Morbit Oneshots

[A_Mi_Manera]

A Normal Therapy Session for Robots: A Crankshaft Rafflesian Story



You're Dotty. You've been spending the last few days with your mind uploaded into the server after your body had a critical failure and rejected you. While the folks in charge of your life sort things out, you've been granted some time with a shrink of sorts. They seem nice. They visit a couple of times a day, they seem to genuinely want to help. They even let you swear sometimes, but you're holding back to avoid being rude.  You limit yourself to a single f-bomb per session.

You honestly don't mind the digital space too much even if at the end of the day you're just floating in a bunch of tall black boxes and things technically aren't the greatest right now. It's like being sick maybe, but you'd probably get yelled at if you somehow managed to catch the flu. You'd even say you're downright more comfortable here if only because there's less issues with the faulty old tech that's countless renovations away from being where you need to be. 





Dotty: Some days I'm doing good and some days I'm just crashing on a regular basis you know? 

Papaya: You know what sets it off?

Dotty: No but... there's usually a disconnect. A disconnect from my brain and everything else. From me, from the shell I'm stuck with, from the world and people. And.... part of it's just stuck there. 

Papaya: Might be the age of the rig, retrofitting on a piece like that's pretty hard you know? Serious talk, the fact that they were able to recover as much as they could is a miracle in its own right. Most folks don't get that chance.

Dotty: ...Can I say something bad? Off the record?

Papaya: Yeah, go for it.

Dotty: That felt like a mistake... I know I should probably be grateful but...the person they're hoping they can recover doesn't feel like me. Maybe it was, but I don't know anymore. You know technically I don't even own my body legally? If something goes wrong they want me to pay for a fix right away but... it's such a old shell you know? It doesn't always feel right, like a jumbo sized costume I'll never grow into. 

They pause in thought for a moment as if picking Their next words as careful as they can until Epiphany settles. He grimaces.

Papaya: Want me to be real? Existential level real. This might be upsetting. 

Dotty: Please. No sugar coating, there's a room full of nerds who do that daily.

Papaya: Restoration's kind of a new art. I don't know all the details on how the lab goes and does it but.. from what I know you were awful corrupted when they found you. Nothing more than a fumbling mess who couldn't make a real sentence to save your life.

Dotty: You weren't ... around for that were you? I remember that more than I want to and I really don't like knowing people saw me like that.

Papaya: Nope, I had to read some of your docs before doing this. Don't work in this office, heck I'll be honest with you. I'm only here because I've done and goofed myself.

Dotty: You had an accident?

Papaya: Just a little. Shell got wrecked by a cab. I'll shake it off but... back to important things.

You can't help but side-eye the fact that they brought it up but don't really seem to want to elaborate on it.

Papaya: Restoration's kind of new ground. They had to take shortcuts somewhere since putting you back together with how little there was to work with isn't feasible. Honestly I don't know if full restoration is possible, we had to spaghetti code you from some donors so... that could explain some of the dissonance. Made of bits and pieces copied from the closest thing they had.

Dotty: I mean... I don't mind it too much. I barely remember jack of anything. Nobody to miss, nobody to think about owing money, no grave sites to look up. 

Papaya: That's kind of a grim mess though, right?

Dotty: Maybe, but it's all true. I don't want to be someone I don't remember, I want to be me and as far as I'm concerned nothing back then counts really. I just wish I could feel that a bit more, feel like I'm not recycled. Don't like sitting in a lab, don't like not knowing when they'll say I can be let out. 

Papaya: Yeah well... I don't do this too often but I know a lot of folks with assets. You got cred up top you know. Massive cred. Worked close to a few big people. Friends of gods, a history of knighthood and dueling. You'd have to talk to some folks who you probably won't recall but... it's something. You need out of this place anyway, too young to be locked down like that. 

Dotty: You think they'd go for it?



Papaya: I'd have to be awful convincing but it's nothing a little prep won't help with. You gonna be okay with that though? Handing out with some century old bums who might need someone to be muscle at parties?

Dotty: Please, I can't do any of this anymore. I want out so fucking bad you have no idea.

Papaya: Consider it done. Might take awhile but.... I'll make it happen as soon as I can. 

Dotty: Hey uh, one more request? Might be a tad big.

Papaya: The worst I can say is no so lay it on me.

Dotty: You don't mind visiting a bit here and there until I'm out right? I need people to talk to...

Papaya: I'll stop by when I can, I gotta come every once in awhile anyway so easy.

Dotty: Thanks... like thanks a ton, Don't think I could ever do enough of that.

Papaya: Hey, no worries. I can stick around just a bit longer so if you want to talk a bit more about stuff I'm game.

Dotty: Honestly? I just want to soak it all in for a bit. You don't mind right?

Papaya: Course not. Just stay strong for now.

Dotty: I will.