(This is a record of a story/roleplay type thing I have going on with my boyfriend. We alternate posts and it starts off with his writing)

*BOOM!*

The first sliver of light in countless years fell through the freshly made dent in the cellar doors, and through them tumbled heavy plumes of dust that fell from where they'd been caked at the seams.

Did your husband teach you how to swing like that?

*KrrrrAKABOOM*

Thicker columns of light warranted thicker tongues of smoke, whole clumps of dust falling from the resounding force that crashed against the metal doors.

IS THAT ALL YOU'VE GOT, OLD MAN!?

*KRK-OOOOM*

Metal doors crashed ostentatiously against the walls as they flew open, leaving a lone figure to block out the light from the hallway. Its shadow against the far wall was a mottled blur that came into focus as the shadow drew nearer. Slowly enough the definition of a man formed of that shadow, with ( )oad shoulders slumped from exertion and his proud stance quartered at the knees. Thick ( )eaths wheezed through the ventilation of the mask strapped around his head, and he quickly ( )andished a snub-nosed shotgun at the imposing darkness. Silence reigned as natural light filled the room, reclaiming territory long since sealed off from the outside world. As his lupine amber eyes adjusted to the dim interior, he vaguely made out the shape of cylindrical chambers lining the walls, each one large enough to hold a man and each one with its door splayed wide and insides vacant.

All but one.

In the farthest corner remained one closed chamber, its contents unseen through the dusty glass. Whoever had emptied this place long ago must have either missed one or deemed it not worthy; either way, this laboratory he'd found was dead. Any Waster with a ( )ain knew better than to mess with anything scientific; even the most zonked out mutant out there would rather eat lead before they'd poke around in an old laboratory like this one. No one wanted to be the asshole who unleashed the next cataclysm.

Still, dire times called for desperate measures, and that's how the lean fox of a man found himself where he was. Peeling the mask off revealed a cut and noble face, handsome save for the teardrop scar that ran down his left eye. Golden eyes stared critically out from under a bed of short, cropped auburn hair. He wore a form-fitting shirt that must have once been white before seeing one too many dust storms, and the fa( )ic clung with sweat to his lean muscles. Heavy boots clopped against the polished floor as he searched around, biting back a curse. Of course there was nothing down here; why would there be? There was nothing anywhere anymore, and you knew that when you first saw this place.

"There'll be something, you said. All you have to do is believe," he growled to himself sourly, chucking the mask at the ground. Hands on his hips, he stemmed his quickly building rage and tried to figure out where he'd find a meal for the night.

Eve couldn’t remember the last time she had been awake. It seemed like she had been asleep for a whole millennia. “Papa…?” She called as her slumber pod slipped out from beneath the floor, locking into place behind a cracked door. The dusty glass slid open with a quiet hum, all too smoothly for a machine that hadn’t operated in so many years. The young android woman stepped out, soft copper curls bouncing lightly over her shoulders with the movement. Her hands smoothed over her impeccable night gown of simple white cotton, preening herself after her sleep in an act of self-consciousness. She surveyed the area, searching for the man that had created her eagerly.

Instead, she found ruin and rubble. Soft pink lips curled into a frown, her electric green eyes flickering as her internal drives worked to process the overload of information. It was just yesterday when her papa put her to sleep, kissing her forehead good night. Her sensors picked up a heat signature in the room and she turned, even before her mind had fully processed what that meant. A kind of instinctual programming he had installed in her. “Who are you?” She asked the stranger, her voice cautious and a little less than human sounding.

This man… He wasn’t her papa. He was taller. His shoulders were ( )oader. He stood in a different posture, almost arrogant in the way he carried himself. Finally, her drives caught up with the information sent to it and she could see. He was definitely not her creator. “What have you done to my papa?” A quick step back. “How do you know my name?”

She was ready to run. She would have, if her curiosity hadn’t gotten in the way. It was a human trait, fed and amplified by the machine-driven need for knowledge. She needed to know what was happening. Her ( )ain demanded it. It was always searching for new information. “Where are the others? What have you done to them?” Question after question. She couldn’t stop her mouth, even as she surveyed the area. She was finding so many answers, so many different possibilities, but she refused to believe. Human stubbornness.

How long had the stranger been here? The fact that smoke and dust still swirled in the air suggested that he had only just arrived. What was he doing here? By the way he dressed, he looked like a thief or a looter of some kind. Had the lab been closed for so long as to provoke thieves into searching the place for valuables? Surely she hadn’t been asleep for that long. Come to think of it… How long had she been asleep? The accumulation of dust suggested years. The other androids had escaped, probably. They always did have a problem with staying asleep until they were called. A glitch in their systems that wasn’t present in hers.

The only questions left to answer was who he was and where her papa was.

*T-kssssss*

A hiss whispered against the silence of that dank, dusty chamber, stirring air long left to go stale. Behind the door of that untouched cell something shifted, and the words froze instantly on his tongue. In a heartbeat he'd jerked back, fingers instinctively reaching for the leather-bound handle of his longshank. Eyes the color of flaxen wheat narrowed as he crouched, ready in an instant to pounce on whatever emerged from the shadows. A flaming thought sizzled across the icy surface of his mind like a drop of fat on a hot skillet, churning his guts as he tensed. All it took was one junked up runner putting his nose in where it didn't belong... and the world was never the same again.

Metal sang against metal as he eased the first inch of his makeshift blade from its hilt. What he wielded was little more than a crudely sharpened hunk of scaffolding, but he clenched on to it like it was a double-barreled blaster. A hundred different scenarios played through his mind, each one starring whatever menace lay behind the chamber's doors and each one ending in a grim death for the would-be ruin-runner. Some horrible experiment gone wrong, all teeth and claws, or some black-blooded spiker, manically searching for his next fix. He prepared for a thousand different encounters... but nothing he could have planned for would have prepared him for what stepped out. 

From the shadows stepped out a slim and slender figure, all auburn curls and delicate movements. It was most definitely a she, whatever it was, his instincts told him that much. He hadn't seen many women in his time, but he'd seen enough to recognize the sudden burning heat that set his blood ablaze in his veins. She, whoever she was, was so sudden and feminine that it struck him like a blow to his every sense, and for a moment instinct overcame shock and he was ensorceled by the very sight of her. Words failed to come... which was for the best, since she seemed to have an abundance.

One by one his wits returned to him and he caught up quickly to her tirade, fighting through his fogged state to make sense of her words. His hand managed to release its grip on his blade, but his eyes were still far too shocked to pull away from her form. Those curves, that skin, light BLIND me, those eyes... she's... she's perfect. His tongue, suddenly dry, scrounged up just enough composure to reply. "Ease up on the throttle, there, Red. Who am I?"

The words seemed to hang in the open air as every inch of wit he had aligned perfectly... and a slow, easy smile settled on his face.I'm the richest man this side of the crater.

"Cardlin Coreman. I'm a runner, yes, but I'm also a stitch. I don't have the Tar, and I can tell from the look of you, you're no black blood either." Look at you. You're anything but. "Now, I don't know about any others... I just got here myself. I was poking around and fizz, there you are. I don't know your name, I don't know your papa... but I'll be happy to get you to him, if you know where he is."Seeing as how he's probably toast, though... I'll be happy to get you to the hands of the highest bidder.

His hands were up in a defensive gesture, his smile and his posture alike trying to make him seem as harmless as possible. The last thing he needed was for her to run; barefoot as she was, she'd get cut up in an instant on all this rubble, and every ding was another cred off of his take. "Now then, fair's fair... I showed you mine, so you show me yours. What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

His gaze started to make her feel uncomfortable and rather underdressed. The sturdy, plain white cotton of her gown was meant for sleeping, not receiving guests. Even if this guest was rather rudely staring at her. The concept of self-consciousness was newly installed in her mind (all to make her more life-like and more human than ever before) and she greatly disliked it. She couldn’t get over it and the filaments beneath her silicon skin began to warm to temperatures high enough to produce a warm blush.

Eve was about to speak, to politely ask him to stop staring, when he finally opened his mouth. “Cardlin Coreman?” She repeated, tilting her head to one side as she examined his face and simultaneously searched her databases for any information. She came up with nought in her internal hard drive and frowned. “I don’t know who you are… I’ve never even heard of you. My papa never mentioned…” She trailed off, looking to the floor. “He’s far away. I can feel where he is… I just can’t pinpoint him from this great distance.” The rest of the information was gibberish. Whatever it was, she couldn’t make heads nor tails of it.

“How did you call me up here if you didn’t know that my name is Eve?” She asked curiously. If there was another way, she was never told about it. “You had to have said it for me to even be awake right now.” She was far too trusting. Another fatal human flaw program installed in her. She had to be as life-like as possible for her papa’s affluent client.

“This… This is my home. Or it was.” She was sad. Her voice crackled and fizzed, like static interfering with her transmission. The voice was one of the few hurdles left to overcome until she was perfect. “It’s empty now. Everything and everyone is gone. I was created here. Programmed from scratch, moulded, wired and built into the prototype to the perfect daughter-droid. Papa said that I’m almost perfect. His walking, talking blueprint was almost there.” She sighed, kicking at a small chunk of rubble. A tiny nick in her skin sparked lightly as nano-bots quickly mended the tear. Her skin was repairable. Her inner workings weren’t. It was a strange request but for enough money, her papa would do it. No questions asked.

“Take me to him. Take me to my papa. I know the way. I just need protection.” She looked up at him now, walking towards him. This would be her first outing outside of the lab. Papa had always been so protective, always worried about competitors stealing her away and taking her apart to find out all his secrets. His codes to make androids so life-like and the nano-bot system within her. “He can pay you well… My papa’s creations are very sought after and very expensive.”

"I have never heard of you."

If only it were that simple... The thought was souring enough to pull him from his greed and lust, leaving him to his thoughts as the girl rambled on. The truth was that he was nobody  to the people that mattered; behind their walls, in their safe-zones and quarantines, Cardlin was just another dirt-( )eathing parasite. To the kings of the waste, however, Cardlin was all too well-known for his unique... talents. As much as he'd like to ( )ag that his ruin-running abilities were what had made him so infamous, it was instead his innate affinity with all things mechanical. Machines. They make a hell of a lot more sense than humans,  more often than not.

A single word rose up from her timid tirade to pique his interest. Droid? Quirking a ( )ow, he gave her a more critical look-over, this time forcing the lustful thoughts from his mind. To the right buyer, a droid, especially a working one, could mean he'd never have to worry about creds for the rest of his life. An intact servant droid, hell a droid of any sort went for barrels of cred, more than enough to pull him up and out of the gutter for life. This girl, however, couldn't possibly be a droid, though; her joints were seamless, her expressions far too real. Probably some pervert's ( )ainwashed daughter, or some fever-dreaming junker.

Ignoring the rest of her story (though the word "pay" did have a nice ring to it), he stepped closer to her to give her neck a close look. What few droids he'd seen all had a telltale seam along their jawline, right where neck met head... and, for whatever reason this girl didn't seem to have one. As she spoke on, he continued to investigate her body, lips pouting and ( )ow furrowing skeptically as he looked over her limbs. No seams, no lines... well, there was one last check, and it was easy enough to do. Looking up at her, for he was crouching now, he sized her up. If she is a droid, she won't care... and if she's just a little slip of a girl, she couldn't hurt him. Fair enough, here goes.

Cardlin reached forward to pinch her gown just over her navel and, with a careless calm to his actions, he pulled up to see what she had between her legs.

Eve yelped, her eyes wide as he pulled up her skirt while she was talking. Shocked at the rudeness of it all, she jumped back away from him. Her arms came down to pull her skirt back into place over her snow white panties. “W-what do you think you are doing?!” She asked, her fingers clutching the material of her gown and holding it down as if she thought he would do it again. Her cheeks flushed red, the thin filaments beneath the silicon warming up again. “Perhaps it would be better if we went our separate ways.” She huffed, turning on her heels and heading up the stairs.

She was very much mindful of the rubble that could easily cut her false skin, despite knowing that she would not feel the pain and that the skin would easily be repaired. There was no need to injure herself when it could have been easily prevented. “Good luck in life, Cardlin.” She called back before slipping out of the lab into the ruins of her home. Wondering if there was anything still in her closet that was sturdier than the thin material of her night gown, she headed towards where her papa had kept the clothes.

With a nibble of her supple lower lip, she opened the closet door. The hope vanished from her eyes. Everything was gone, and the things left were worn and not much better than the cloth she was already wearing. “Oh dear…” She mumbled to herself, turning and finding that even the curtains were gone. Everything had been looted but her. “What to do…” Out the door she went, finding sparse land rather than the green she remembered. How long had it been since she had been awoken? 

<( ) />

Cardlin's quick yellow eyes had barely gotten a peek of the pillowy white panties before the girl was darting away from him, her cheeks flushing hot crimson. Holding up his hands defensively, he tried his best to make sense of the situation as she wandered about the room... and promptly strode out of it. This girl's zonked out of her cranium if she thinks heading out there dressed like that is a good idea... "H-hey, you frag! Don't you know what's out there!?" He was just about to hurry after her when a beep and a whirring hum drew his attention back to the chamber.

Beneath the metallic surface he could hear the buzz and spin of old hardware coming to life, the liquid surge of power finding circuits long left dormant. Lights and display panels blossomed, displaying words and readouts in a rapid text. He squinted to make sense of them but it was no use; Cardlin prided himself on being one of the few apt readers left, but these words were unfamiliar and scrolling by too quickly. Curious fingers reached for a glowing button when a light suddenly shot out from the top of the chamber and washed over him. A cool, disembodied voice called out as the light scanned him over from head to foot. "Intruder detected. Analyzing threat level..."

Analyzing what now? Gritting his teeth, he shielded his eyes from the light and looked up as the light joined into a single form, the shape of a human beginning to form. Blind your eyes, Cardlin... what've you gotten yourself into now?

-*-

A cut and scabbed over nose reached into the air, snuffling the air with ravenous fervor. It belonged to a bent and beastly figure, spindly long limbs and torn skin banded in scraps of clothing that clung to caked blood. It navigated the ruins of the crumbled building with a spider's ease, constantly sniffing and chomping its yellowed canines at the air, dire for even the slightest trace of a meal. Blind eyes, milky and striated with an inky black, stared vacantly from the gaunt face, pupils searching frantically under a thin film of flesh. It retched with fury when it found nothing in the air, and was about to turn away when the skittering sound of toppled rocks drew its attention. It jerked toward the sound and remained perfectly still, silent save for the sound of shallow, racing ( )eaths. 

Silence, then the sounds of more rubble being moved. 

Food. 

It made a wheezing, gurgling cry that rose into the air, and from elsewhere amidst the rubble two more heads rose in response. They were mutated and malformed each in their own way, though they all shared the milky eyes, the spindly limbs... and the ravenous hunger. Pounding into motion, the gangly beast crested a hill of concrete and jutting metal to gaze down towards where the sound came from. A lone figure stood in an aging doorway, slight and slender but doubtlessly good for a bite. With another cry, this one electric with eagerness, the beast charged down the hill toward this lone human, its two ( )ethren close on its heels.