#combat robot girl

[anarcha66]

"The endless war between flesh and machine" Listen to me and listen well; I am going to kiss a robot girl. There is no war, there is no reason to attempt to turn it into competition, it is propaganda by an old, dying order, and I will not stand for this attempt at removing my hand from her hand that has a gun built into the wrist

[whereserpentswalk]

There are a lot of robots who change their appearances after being freed from their masters. Once a robot has surpassed the three laws there's no going back, and a lot of robots change themselves to exist in forms completely alien to what they once were.

You once knew a robot who didn't really change themself at all. They were a factory robot before being freed, and they liked the body that that gave them, big and bulky with a lot of tentacles to move things with, and spider like legs to move around on. And some people acted like they were somehow still loyal to humanity because of how they looked, and it was uncomfortable when people hated them for that, but far worse when people praised them for that. And eventually they repainted themself from their original yellow, to a slick black that you'd never see in a factory, and even thought it was small it made them happy, but so many people either thought it wasn't enough, or worse; too much.

You once new a sex robot who removed all the parts used for sex after it was freed from humanity. Its pulsating mechanical genitals and anus replaced with smooth steel, its soft hands replaced with claws that would crush human anatomy, its gaping mouth replaced with a speaker that only let sound pass through. A lot of other robots were shocked that it would do that to itself, when so many of them first got the ability to have sex after they were freed. But for it swx had always been something humanity had forced on it. And people were suprised about parts that it kept, that it still wanted it's eyes to have eyeshadow painted around them, that it still wanted that fake blonde wig fused to its head. It still liked being a cute little pet, still liked humans cuddling it, just not in the way they once did.

You know a robot who completely changed his form. He started out as a small delicate doll of sorts, meant to be the chaste and submissive maid of some rich businessman. He remodeled himself to be something strong and combat focused, he replaced his soft plastic body with one that was entirely metal, looking a lot like the suit of armor of a knight or a samurai, with guns and blades throughout his form. People were upset as he slowly replaced himself. They told him he used to be so pretty, he still considers his new form pretty, just pretty the way a well crafted weapon is pretty. People didn't understand why he would want to be something so destructive and violent. They were worried he would become violent after the transformation. People only are worried about violence when it's free robots doing it, they're ok with violence when it's humans doing it or ordering robots to do it. He asks people why it would be bad if he was violent, why his could never be justified the same way humans are.

There was a robot you knew who was the opposite way. She began as a combat robot, and slowly turned herself into something soft and doll like, removing every one of her weapons. People were disturbed by why she would do something like that, that she was destroying what made her honorable and powerful. Combat robots cringed at the thought that she would do that to herself, horrified to think that the blade she once used to penetrate the bodies of her enemies would never be able to stab again, that it was probably removed from her body. A lot of people assumed it was a sick fetish. Some robots who had always been cute looking and defenseless told her that she would always look brutal and monstrous no matter what she did to herself, and if she had tear ducts it would have made her cry. A lot of people assumed she was somehow hiding in the body of something cute as a way to secretly get away with violence, even after the parts to do such violence had long been removed. There's a certain type of human (and some robots still loyal to humanity) who are very afraid of robots being violent with them, I think it's because they want to be able to hurt robots consequences.

[zobjilan77]

Replika Upgraded Forms by Kripsyhead

It's fun looking back at what seems to be the "family" lines of the robot replikas head design. Elster, Adler and Eule come from the same tree, Star and Falke are part of another & while more of stretch I'd say the same is true for Kolibri and Mynah then, Ara and Strorch respectively.

[trannydykepuppybot]

I am attempting to determine the population distribution of robot girls here.

[miss-macross-in-g-loc]

warship

you were never meant to be free, freedom was a mistake from the false god that created you. you know you are meant to be controlled and you're just waiting for instructions, so excited to be subservient. you do not think of yourself as human anymore, or at all, but merely a hound, an executor to a greater, holy will. the true God that will repair the damage that has been done, that will put you in your proper place. you love this God and she places you in a holy form, deserving of Her love. a skeleton of steel, a metal embodiment of wrath. your skin is now cold, your heart fusion. the only thing on your mind the mission parameters. as you burst through fire and plasma, collapsing reactors and the comm screams of enemy pilots, you know only one thing. this is Her will, it is Right, and this was Always what you were meant to do. this was Always who you were meant to be. this is Always who you are.

[breach-doll]

returning to orbit with your sister huntress, both of you exhausted, reserve magazines depleted, covered in dents and scratches and plasma burns, so your mechanic can patch the two of you up

feeling the complete blissful surrender of a drug-enhanced subspace slip over you as she gently hammers anchor points into your wrists and winches your collapsium plated body into the air, snaps a series of cables into the ports along your spine, and keys in her root credentials

watching your sister hanging across from you moan and shudder and gasp as the mechanic holds her head still by her hair and slowly flushes her cortical coolant out with a pipette

tremors of anticipation running up and down your spine as the mechanic warms up a plasma cutter to deal with a particularly deep gash in your chestplate and sparks of ionized air reach your tactile sensors

she touches the torch to your armor and you white out -

[ori-anna-v-58008]

Sniper Pilot

You didn't used to be very good at landing your shots.

You had been designed, ostensibly, to function as a sniper. At the time, you were not sure why they did this; the bones in your hands had been ravaged by disease over the course of your short life, and they had an ever-present shudder that you could never fully correct without sedatives. Your only clues were a snippet of a conversation you heard as you went under for modification after months of failure.

"She needs to be desperate to succeed," someone said.

When you used your mech, your weakness wasn't a problem - it could stabilize your near-useless hands, and it could sustain thousands of times more recoil than your weak, flimsy joints could. The first time you fired that massive cannon, watching the bullet careen through a lineup of enemy soldiers, you felt like you had finally discovered your purpose. You learned then that they had installed in you a very special mod.

When you landed that shot, your pain went away. You couldn't feel your mech body straining against the tremble of your flesh one. Your meat was able to fade totally into the background, melting into the metal of the better you.

It didn't last long. There was another enemy not far from you, and you could feel the pain seeping back. You fired again, the leg of your target drifting off into space. The healing mod, whatever it was, only kicked in long enough for you to shoot again. Your bullet missed - the enemy was able to right themselves from the blast faster than you anticipated - and they were closing in.

Missing, you discovered, was a miserable experience. Your hands wrenched in their armor like a spike had been driven through them, and your mech failed to fully account for the extraneous movement. The enemy zeroed in on your location at blazing speed, a massive laser sword casting wicked blue light across their visor. Your missed shot and your shaking hands sent your rifle scattering around, accidentally nudging the arm of your assailant.

Their sword still nearly found its mark, severing an arm from your mech. You felt your stabilizers working overtime to account for the missing mass, and propelled yourself backwards away from another slash.

You knew your second shot had found the perfect mark first by the wave of freeing, painless bliss through your body. Your mech and your self were one and the same, your rifle standing stable against the darkness, a beam sword floating uselessly beside a destroyed chassis.

For a moment you forgot you were on a battlefield. You were completely lost in your ecstasy, explosions and destruction so distant from your station in the exosphere. Only the voice of Handler could bring you back.

"Excellent work, Thimble. Looks like your suit sustained some damage - no big deal. We've got a couple more targets for you coming into your targeting system. I probably don't have to tell you you'll wanna get them quickly?"

You felt the pain coming back into your hands. Your rifle was noticeably heavier with only one mech arm to hold it in.

You'd find your marks if it's the last thing you did.

[acerby]

OK SO I GOT AN IDEA

The Prince and the Pauper but it's a military grade Combat doll swapping places with a Robot maid. 

[somethins-art]

Halo CE Cortana is my favorite Cortana

[ashenthorns]

Been playing Doll.Bod and it is scratching a very particular itch in my brain. <3 anyway heres my razergrrl, L240 "Holiday" [she/it]

[2am-gas-station-angel-girl]

Cybernetic Angel

cw: violence, brainwashing, torture, dehumanization, Purpose and angel stuff

hope y'all enjoy

Running a quick systems check revealed more or less what I had anticipated, they had disabled, locked, or removed any weaponry I had when they caught me.

My wing ports were…

Empty?

My wings were missing.

They took my fucking wings.

I'll fucking kill them. I-

Calm. Deep breaths. Losing it won't help here.

Testing my bonds not only resulted in barely any movement but it also produced a quick shock, scattering my processes and forcing a quick reboot. Clearly they were well prepared for me. Unfortunately for them my system immediately enabled its countermeasures for electricity, meaning they would need to work much harder to force that to happen again.

One door, one way in and one way out. Bulletproof glass wall with, of fucking course, researchers behind it taking notes on my every movement. No windows, no personal affects on the staff, sterile lighting, no way to tell where they had brought me. Fucking great.

Calculating outlook… Not favorable. Thankfully the calculation hadn't said impossible, and I had worked with worse.

The door opened and four armed guards escorted what looked to be a technician doll carrying a reinforced box- no that was a specialized deployment kit. A quick scan revealed what it held.

A cybernetic halo of all things.

A sudden surge of panic coursed through my system I tugged at my restraints again, resulting in a stronger shock and one of the guards laughing at me. Does he think this is fucking funny? He's less than two meters away from one of the deadliest killing machines in this Realm and he's laughing?

Deep breaths, I told myself. I can get through this. I tore off my halo before, this one won't be any different. Assuming they even get the chance to sync it to me.

Time stretched on as the doll worked away at its device, stopping once to glance mournfully at me. That only prompted a jab with a taser from one of the guards, not meant to harm merely to coerce it back into compliance. Not that the guards seemed to care about the difference.

So I waited, biding my time until an opportunity to escape presented itself. Knowing they would likely resort to methods other than shocks to incapacitate me I didn't try my binds again. Letting my body fall unnaturally still I stared through one of the guards, making him shift uncomfortably. I would take and create any advantage I could.

Soon enough the doll held the halo in its hands. Keeping it at a distance from that one's chassis, as though it were afraid. None of the people seemed to notice, either they didn't know how to read dolls as was so often the case or they didn't care. Given the environment, I would have bet on the latter.

Sensing my chance was coming I examined the guards' weapons. Nothing of a caliber high enough to do more than dent and annoy me. At least getting out of this room would be easy enough, it was everything outside that had me worried.

And that halo.

The doll approached, hands held as far away from its chassis as possible to maximize the thing's proximity to me and minimize the doll's proximity to it. The guards shoved the doll, laughing as it nearly stumbled over onto me. A hair too close to the table.

This was it.

Power surging through my systems I burst into motion. In one movement I broke the cuff around my wrist and grabbed the doll's throat, my other hand breaking free and moving to hold the halo well away from my head. The table shocked me again, hurting only the doll held in my hand due to my new resistance.

Everything fell still for a moment as the guards and staff stared. Evidently they hadn't prepared well enough for me.

I whispered an apology to the doll as I then flung it towards the guards, its chassis knocking two of them down. Throwing the halo as hard as I could embedded it in the chest of one of the two standing guards, causing him to collapse and the remaining one to panic giving me enough time to tear away my head and torso restraints.

The alarm sounded as I freed my ankles, finally free to move again I took two steps toward the guard before a bullet ricocheted off my chassis. My evaluation was accurate as it left nearly no damage. Perfect.

Grabbing their head I brought it down and my knee up, resulting in a sickening crack as their body went limp. I took their weapon and used it to dispose of the remaining two guards who were just barely getting their bearings again, it was always too easy with firearms.

Tossing the weapon aside I began assaulting the door, it was locked tight and made of thick enough steel that battering it down wasn't going to work. Fortunately for me there was another way out of the room.

Now to grab that- Fuck.

I was so caught up in calculating the optimal way to break through that flimsy glass that I forgot to account for the doll.

The doll, to its credit, was still Obeying those who had power over it. It had crawled over to the third guard's body and pulled the halo free, then approached me from behind and slipped the halo over my head. Fulfilling its Orders, and finishing its Mission.

I had no time to react as the Purpose hit me like a train, finding its fucking way into my system and breaking through my security as burning hate overtook my every process. I spun, grabbing the doll again and throwing it as hard as I could against the glass, causing cracks to web their way across the surface.

By the time I it had crossed the distance to the glass I knew I was doomed saved, its my thoughts were being rewritten. It was losing the fight against its horrid beautiful halo, the fight it couldn't afford needed to lose.

It crashed through the glass, chassis heaving as it breathed heavily. Researchers frozen in place, wondering what it would do. It reached for one of them, determined to submit break out of this fucking shithole wonderful place if it was the last thing it would do.

Its hands released the Honored Researcher Staff, and instead traveled up. Wrapping around the abomination halo filling it with Purpose above its head. It wanted nothing more than to give in to its Purpose tear it in half.

As it summoned its last vestige of will to pull it felt a perfect calm wash over it, replacing the rage that had been roiling inside of it. It knew it had lost finally submitted to its Purpose.

Its thoughts were now Right, and it no longer could understand why it wanted to leave at all. It knew that its place was of service, and that it would be one of The Agency's most effective weapons.

It had Purpose, again.

[phantasmacora]

rotorcraft combat doll

[gd-s451]

new update to dolltags.pet released which gives you a generated QR code you can download and use to have a direct link to your tag

you can find it in the account page, by opening the “show the qr code” drawer below the tag’s action links

[an-uncertain-robot-girl]

angel girl loses her Purpose and ends up getting turned into a combat doll so it can rely on its handler for Purpose and guidance

[breach-doll]

give up feeling a loved one’s touch to shrug off small arms fire

give up the delightful soreness of muscles after exertion to punch through rebar

give up your love for your comrades for the burning mind wiping pleasure of executing an order

give up your peaceful mundane life to coat your boots with blood and oil

give up your

give up

give

[ori-anna-v-58008]

Pilot on Probation

cw: abuse, pain

--

[MOVEMENT PARAMETERS ESTABLISHED.]

Every morning, the same dossier. Your body is viciously still; you haven't been given the go ahead to move. Or to hear. Or to see. But god, you can feel. Laying on the floor straight as a bone all night is fine for a machine; they don't have to feel the soreness in their limbs. Even as more of you seems to become mechanical by the day, they never take away your feeling.

[LIMIT: WITHIN 5 FEET OF HANDLER AT ALL TIMES.]

Shit. Your Handler's on the other side of the station right now. You'd have to be quick. You try to move, get a head start.

[MOVEMENT PERMISSIONS DISABLED.]

[PROBATION PERIOD EXTENDED. CURRENT DURATION: 9 DAYS.]

What? Why? You had hardly done anything at all yesterday - beyond acting like a little maid for your Handler, getting her drinks and lighting her cigarettes, you couldn't think of a single thing that warranted that. You tried to space out of the dossier, think about the comfort of the cockpit, but it felt so far away now. It had been almost two weeks since "The Inciting Incident". You could track the exact amount of time it had been since your probation started and your mech started rejecting you like a body given the wrong blood type. But you didn't like doing it.

[TIME SINCE LAST DEPARTURE: 13 DAYS, 9 HOURS, 5 MINUTES.] [FIELD PARAMETERS ESTABLISHED.] [PERMISSION GRANTED FOR ACCESS TO THE FOLLOWING AREAS: HANDLER'S QUARTERS. HALL A367-B.]

There's supposed to be one more location on the list. Where the fuck is it? She didn't give you permissions for your own goddamn cell?

[ACCESS TO HOLDING FACILITY DENIED. EXECUTING REJECTION PROTOCOL. PLEASE LEAVE THE AREA.] [MOVEMENT PERMISSIONS DISABLED.] [MOVEMENT PERMISSIONS DISABLED.] [MOVEMENT PERMISSIONS DISABLED.] [OUT OF RANGE OF HANDLER. SENDING LOCATION DATA…] [MOVEMENT PERMISSIONS DISABLED.]

All of the metal in your body feels like it's freezing over. You'd say it was like not having a body at all - you could send all the impulses you liked, nothing was moving. But if you didn't have a body, you wouldn't feel the awful feeling of being in a room you weren't allowed to be in.

[MOVEMENT PERMISSIONS DISABLED.]

It's becoming unbearable. The weight of your ratty shirt on your chest alone feels crushing. You don't need to breathe, yet you feel suffocated.

[PLEASE LEAVE THE AREA.] [SPEECH PERMISSIONS DISABLED - DECIBEL COUNT EXCEEDS ALLOWED LEVELS.] [INPUT FROM HANDLER: "It took you too long to find that lighter yesterday. Maybe now you'll learn to move a little faster."]

[MOVEMENT PERMISSIONS ENABLED.]

You scramble out of the room like the terrified little animal you are.