#dpd modifier

[headmate-lootbox]

may we request a femboy dogboy headmate with losts of transids? (trans chinese being one of them but other than that rlly anything)

Name;; Arlo/Arynn/Rocky/Loclyn/Dancir/Marcie Age/Modifier;; 18 / Permakid (10) Gender;; Femboy Transmasc GNC Pronouns;; He/They/"She"/It/Paw/Pad/Bark/Ruff/Tail/Wag/Pup Orientation;; Omniromantic / Aceflux / Apressplatonic / Analterous CisIDs;; ADHD / Bipolar Disorder / DPD / Dogboy / Heterochromia / Chronic Pain / MaDD TransIDs;; Transchinese / TransBPD / TransNPD / TransOCD / TransAutistic / TransCSA / TransCOCSA / Transharmful / Transharmed / Transimmortal / Transdeity / TransSH / Transcultleader / Transwhiteeyes / Transrapist / Trans🧸 Paras;; 🍸 / ❣️ / 🌼 / 💤 Role;; Rolefluid Source;; n/a Extra;; Cute & Silly puppyboy for you!

[gogogodzilla]

𝙹𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝟻, 𝟸𝟶𝟹𝟸, 𝙰𝙼 𝟶𝟾:𝟺𝟹:𝟷𝟾

Summary: Your investigation leads you back to Cyberlife, and you leave with more questions than answers masterlist ✩ ao3 ✩ wattpad ✩ previous chapter ✩ next chapter ✩

Your boots click against the tile floor as you lead Gavin through Cyberlife. It’s nice to be back in familiar territory, even if the circumstances for your visit are less than ideal. You lead him to the engineering department— a buzzing hub of activity that reminds you of the DPD. Various engineers are huddled over their computers, typing rapidly or working on androids that are undergoing maintenance. Many androids sit in various glass rooms in differing states of disrepair with robotic arms working steadily on their insides. You continue walking down the main hall and head towards the workshops of the head engineers. 

You rap your knuckles on the glass pane of the door to the workshop of interest and a muffled voice tells you to come in. You spare a glance over your shoulder at Gavin, who looks completely unenthused to be there, before pushing the door open and entering. 

Dr. Matthew Hayden is a lanky man wearing glasses that are probably older than you are and a button-up shirt that’s two sizes too big. He hunches over the mangled form of an android and a metallic smell tinges the air. 

“I was beginning to wonder when you were going to venture into my neck of the woods,” he says as his gaze stays transfixed on his work. His tone is controlled, almost as if every word he says is deliberate. 

You share a look with Gavin, who shrugs his shoulders. “I was wondering if you could give us some more information about the androids that have been showing up lately,” you begin, and he sets his tools down and faces you. 

He clasps his hands in front of him, “Do you know how hard it was to get the DPD to send over an android so I could look over it?” He throws his hands up dramatically, “You would’ve thought I was asking for a human corpse with the way they were grilling me!” 

You grimace and Dr. Hayden chuckles. 

“Have you been able to find anything?” you ask as you peer around him to look at the android he’s working on. 

His gaze lingers on you for a moment before he steps to the side to let you look at the android. Your stomach churns as you scan her face. She was the first. 

Dr. Hayden peers over your shoulder and sighs. “It’s a shame someone would waste such a beautiful piece of technology,” he pauses for a moment and clicks his tongue. “Although, it’s not too much of a waste. They took the most important parts and did mostly cosmetic damage besides the missing limbs.” 

“That’s what we came here for,” Gavin interrupts. “What could the parts that have been taken be used for?”

Dr. Hayden straightens, almost as if he forgot Gavin was there. He clears his throat and grabs a nearby datapad. He’s silent for a moment as his gaze darts across the screen. “Well, it’s mostly biocomponents, which help sustain normal functions. There are also advanced processors, which could be used to modify an existing android’s cognitive abilities.” 

“Could these parts help someone create their own android?” you question as you look up at Dr. Hayden. 

His eyes flick between you and Gavin before he sets his datapad down. He crosses his arms and strokes his chin thoughtfully. “Hm, I hadn’t thought about that, Doctor. I suppose it’s possible. They would probably need to find the parts for the skeleton and outer parts, but it wouldn’t be difficult for anyone with advanced engineering skills to assemble one. Hell, we have an entire dumpsite for android parts they could scavenge!”

You heave a sigh. This just got a lot more complicated. 

You hold out your hand, “Thank you for your time, Dr. Hayden. The information you’ve given us has been very insightful.” 

He’s quick to clasp your hand in his own and give it a shake. “It’s been my pleasure, Doctor. Anything to help with your investigation, plus I’ve been eager to meet the person I’ve heard so much about.” 

You furrow your brows and force a laugh, “All good things, I hope.” 

He chuckles, “It’s mostly just talk about your work with the DPD. It’s not something Cyberlife has done before, and people are curious about how it’s going to turn out, especially with all these androids showing up like they are.” 

“Well, hopefully, we can solve this case and catch whoever is destroying the androids,” you declare as you inch toward the exit. 

“Good luck, Doctor. I have a feeling you’ll need it,” Dr. Hayden sighs. You nod in acknowledgment as you leave his office, grateful to be away from the suffocating smell of thirium that filled your lungs.

You lead Gavin toward your office, and you walk in silence as you go over your encounter with Dr. Hayden in your mind. 

“I don’t trust him,” Gavin grunts as you reach the solace of your office. You assume your normal seat at your desk and furrow your brows. 

“What? Why?” 

Gavin shrugs, “Dunno, just have a bad feeling about him.” 

“You’re gonna have to give me a little more than ‘bad vibes’ as a reason,” you chuckle. 

He rolls his eyes, “There was just something about his behavior. It seemed off.” 

“Maybe he’s just a bit quirky,” you hum. 

Gavin shoots you a glare, and you can’t help but laugh. What starts as a few chuckles quickly turns into full-on laughing so hard your eyes water. Gavin quickly joins you, and soon enough the both of you have tears running down your cheeks and your chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. 

You wipe your eyes as you take a deep breath, sighing a little as your gaze lands on Gavin sitting across from you. He leans his head back and stares up at the ceiling. A comfortable silence falls between the two of you as you take in his features. He’d taken off his jacket as soon as he entered your office and placed it on the back of his chair, allowing you to take in the way his uniform hugged his shoulders. 

“It’s rude to stare, sweetheart,” he smirks. 

You rest your head in your hand, “How the fuck are we going to solve this? It seems like this person is always one step ahead of us, and they’re getting bolder with each passing day.” 

Gavin leans forward in his chair and meets your eyes. “We’re gonna catch them, sweetheart,” he says and you almost believe him. 

[rerenikos-sweetheart]

🌟✨ for the ask game :>

thanks for the ask !!! i'll be talking about nova since he's ( always ) on my mind :3

🌟 - what does your f/o do to help comfort you about your insecurities? what do you to do comfort them about theirs?

when either of us breaks down, we try to be as close as possible, holding each other in an embrace, letting to be a shoulder to cry on. nova usually doesn't cry but shuts in instead, so i reassure him by saying that he's a really good leader, also reminding me to breathe. nova is similar, caressing my face and talking about how he would never leave me for anyone else, and that how he loves me <3

✨ - share some headcanons about your f/o! this can be visual headcanons, sexuality or gender, disabilities and neurodivergencies, etc!

i think nova is an agender arospec ace !. he also has modified his body a lot, so that it's easier for him to transform in his full costume, with the helmet and stuff. i also think he is autistic and has dpd <2

[medicineforcare]

Xeloda

Xeloda (Capecitabine) is an oral chemotherapy medication commonly used to treat various types of cancer, including breast cancer, colorectal cancer, and gastric cancer. It belongs to a class of drugs called antimetabolites and works by interfering with the growth of cancer cells.

How Xeloda Works:

As a prodrug, xeloda has no effect when given orally. Once within the body, it is transformed into the more powerful chemotherapy medication 5-fluorouracil (5-FU). 5-FU stops the production of DNA in cancer cells, stopping them from proliferating and multiplying.

Approved Uses:

Colorectal Cancer: Used as a first-line treatment for metastatic colorectal cancer or adjuvant therapy following surgery.

Breast Cancer: Used in combination with other drugs (e.g., docetaxel) for treating locally advanced or metastatic breast cancer, particularly when resistant to other chemotherapy agents.

Gastric Cancer: Approved for treating advanced gastric cancer, often combined with other chemotherapy drugs.

Dosing Information:

Usually based on the area of the body (BSA), the dosage changes according to the type of cancer being treated. Taking the drug twice daily for 14 days and then taking a 7-day break is the typical dose regimen; however, your oncologist may modify this based on your specific condition and tolerance. 

Common Side Effects:

Hand-foot syndrome: Redness, swelling, and pain in the hands and feet

Diarrhea

Nausea and vomiting

Fatigue

Mouth sores

Loss of appetite

Serious Side Effects:

Severe diarrhea (may lead to dehydration)

Heart problems (chest pain, shortness of breath)

Neutropenia (low white blood cell count)

Liver toxicity (elevated liver enzymes)

Drug Interactions:

Warfarin: May increase the risk of bleeding.

Phenytoin: Xeloda may increase the concentration of phenytoin in the blood, which could lead to toxicity.

Leucovorin: Enhances the effect of Xeloda but may also increase toxicity.

Precautions:

Kidney Impairment: Dosage adjustments are necessary for patients with renal dysfunction.

Dihydropyrimidine Dehydrogenase (DPD) Deficiency: Individuals with this genetic condition may have a higher risk of severe side effects.

[kingedbishop]

Being around androids definitely had its perks. Nobody was going to question where Willow got her knowledge, or why she spoke in such a weird way, when there was an android about to fight himself on the front lawn.

It was a small step forward from dodging every single slightly personal question, if anything. Getting reported to the DPD was easier to deal with than the perspective of the Turing showing itself everywhere she went.

Plus there were muffins. She couldn’t be having a better day.

"Come on! It's funny! You're funny." At least Rook was having a blast watching the way Strasky and Peter had found to entertain each other.

It was probably best if she didn’t stare at them for too long, or she might burst into laughter again. "…What? They asked you your name and you said the first thing you thought of?"

Whatever Willow wanted to add was cut off when her attention shifted to the fight undergoing outside. After another long staring contest, the Bishops had resorted to testing who could suplex the other the hardest. Dealing with a modified android wasn't hindering Bishop, being genetically modified himself, and instead he took that chance to hit back as hard as he could without worry about any complaints.

"Who's winning?" Rook asked.

"They're evenly matched so far."

"I was trained to understand and predict human behavior. I'm usually right about this sort of matters." Willow said, placing the tablet down. She was going to keep a copy of the files for herself, feeling it might come in handy if she ever found some free time to attempt designing a suitable algorithm herself.

"I'll give it a shot." Rook said, nodding slightly, "Yeah, that isn't going to work with him."

Indeed, Bishop ignored Dan completely on his way out. It was already impressive that he was going to be mindful enough to go outside to have a talk with his mechanical clone.

It didn't take him finding Vincent again to finding himself face to face with himself. Bishop held his counterpart's gaze, before shooting him a smirk. That was apparently enough for the other to lead the way out.

"It's how he socializes." Rook added. The exchange that followed didn’t surprise her that much, having plenty of experience with siblings, but she ended up laughing at what Strasky was doing.

Willow took that as her chance to snatch more food. "Would you mind me inquiring about the circumstances behind your name?"

[dependencypersonality]

Petdepense - Pet DPD Archetype

ID: A 5-stripe flag with its stripes angled downward toward the bottom in a V formation. Coming down from the top-center is an arrow, with the top containing a downwards obtuse triangle with an icon inside. The icon is a pet collar with a bell, colored a dark mulberry pink. The arrow is a medium-dark mulberry pink, and the triangle inside is slightly lighter. The stripes, from top to bottom: Dark brown, dark pink, pink, brown, dark brown.

Depense are labels that describe one's relation to DPD and their dependent identity. It may be a gender experience, orientation experience, or any other identification: even its own category altogether.

Petdepense, or the pet dependent archetype, is a dependent identity related to pets, considering oneself petlike, and/or being seen as a pet. It may feel beloved, loyal, and inhuman / beastlike, but may also have other interpretations.

The modifier symbols are: 🐾🌷

The tulip as a symbol for DPD is representative of how gardens are dependent on their gardeners and often lovingly tended to in turn.

Depense coined by @epikulupu. Also tagging @cupidcoining and @revenant-coining.

[wordpress-blaze-223640688]

The True Meaning of Judgment: What Jesus Actually Taught

Far too often, there’s confusion around what Jesus truly meant when He taught not to judge others. To understand His message, it’s essential to distinguish between types of judgment—not all are equal, and not all are condemned.

There are judgments that are necessary, objective, and morally neutral—what we might call discernment or truth-based observation. These are made in order to accurately describe a situation or a person’s actions in light of evident facts. For instance, if someone openly embraces hateful ideologies—say, living in a home filled with Nazi paraphernalia and promoting hostility toward Jews or African Americans—it is not “judgmental” in the Christian sense to call that person racist. That is an objective assessment grounded in observable truth, not a personal condemnation born of malice. A just society relies on such clarity to function.

However, Jesus’ teachings go deeper than simply warning against calling wrong “wrong.” What He truly condemns is judgment as condescension towards anyone suffering—the kind that dehumanizes or dismisses someone for their actions, regardless of the suffering or desperation that may have motivated them. This is the critical distinction.

For example, a person who steals food to survive, or lies to secure shelter or safety, may be breaking social or legal codes—but their actions are driven by basic survival, not evil intent. To punish such a person instead of helping them is not justice; it is cruelty. Jesus’ message is a call to empathetic discernment—to look beyond the act and understand the human story behind it.

We must resist the urge to judge people harshly when their wrongdoing stems from deep need or suffering. Their actions should be seen not as an opportunity to condemn, but as an invitation to extend help and healing. In contrast, choosing punishment over compassion, especially within a broken system such as the prison industrial complex, only perpetuates cycles of suffering.

In short, you are not violating Jesus’ teaching by objectively identifying hate, racism, or injustice when it's clearly present. But you are judging in the way Jesus warned against when you write off the struggling, the poor, or the desperate—those who may behave in ways you don’t approve of simply because they are trying to survive.

To refrain from that kind of judgment is to walk in the shoes of another, to understand their pain, and to reflect Christ’s own compassion. When you choose mercy over condemnation, you’re aligning yourself with the heart of Jesus’ message: love over law, empathy over exclusion, healing over punishment.

If there’s a silver lining to judging others in casual and social conversations, it’s that it offers a rare glimpse into yourself—a mirror revealing what you may be unconsciously projecting. We constantly perceive ourselves in others. When you find yourself labeling someone as insensitive, inconsiderate, or selfish, those are not just criticisms of another person—they're prompts for self-reflection. More often than not, the very traits we condemn are reflections of unresolved parts of our own character.

This is where the deeper wisdom of Jesus' teachings comes into play. When you judge someone, pause and ask yourself: Is this a quality I, too, possess? If the answer is yes, then the next step is not further condemnation—but forgiveness. Forgive the other person for what you accused them of, not because they were innocent, but because they became a mirror to help you recognize something within yourself. This is the essence of Jesus’ prayer: “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

In everyday conversation, this self-projection is often casually acknowledged through phrases like “you’re projecting,” “look in the mirror,” or “pot calling the kettle black.” These statements, while sometimes said mockingly, are actually spiritual cues—flags from the universe urging you to engage in honest introspection. Instead of reacting defensively (as the ego tends to do), try receiving such moments with humility. They may be revealing truths about yourself that you've yet to fully face.

If, during an argument, you call someone selfish and later realize you were acting selfishly too, don’t linger in guilt. Forgive them, ask your Heavenly Father to forgive you, and move toward reconciliation. Extend grace: a kind word, a high five, a hug—something to restore peace and harmony.

Interestingly, the original translation of the Lord’s Prayer uses the word “debts” rather than “trespasses.” This suggests a transactional mindset—as if others "owe" us for their offenses. But the spiritual invitation here is to release all those perceived debts. No one owes you anything. Let it go. And ask your Father to forgive your debts, as you have forgiven theirs.

This process is sacred: recognizing projection, extending forgiveness, and asking the Holy Spirit for help to overcome the very faults you've identified in others. When you do this sincerely, the universe—aligned with divine will—begins to rearrange itself in support of your transformation. That is the quiet power of grace at work within you.

In Summary,

Many Christians misunderstand what Jesus meant when he spoke against judgment. Simply making an accurate, objective, or descriptive statement about someone is not what Jesus condemned. For instance, identifying someone as a racist based on their actions is not inherently judgmental in the way Jesus warned against. However, labeling someone as "annoying," "useless," "lazy," or hurling insults like “a-hole” are examples of the kind of condemnation Jesus cautioned his followers to avoid. These are not neutral observations—they are judgments on a person’s worth or character, often rooted in ego, contempt, or malice.

The problem lies not just in the act of making a judgment, but in the spirit behind it. Words like “judgment” have drifted in meaning over time, and this linguistic shift has led to confusion about the original teachings. In true Christianity, saying someone is a thief after they’ve been caught stealing is a factual statement. But accusing people who receive public assistance of being “leeches” or “crooks” is a moral condemnation—a projection of superiority, which is exactly the kind of judgment Jesus opposed.

Even calling someone a “sweetheart” while technically being a judgment—it is a statement about character—but one offered in love. Thus, it is not judgment alone that is discouraged, but the tone, intent, and spirit in which such judgments are made. Jesus did not forbid discernment, but he did forbid condemnation.

This is especially relevant when discussing marginalized communities. The judgment and rejection of the gay community by many who claim to follow Christ is a public and persistent betrayal of his core teaching: “Judge not, lest ye be judged.” To declare someone evil, broken, or wrong simply for who they are is to step into the very role Jesus warned against—usurping the authority of God and dispensing condemnation in His name.

Using Scripture to justify hatred, exclusion, or violence is not only a misuse of the text—it is a rejection of the Spirit of God, who is love. Jesus never taught hatred. He never endorsed anger or violence. His way was mercy, compassion, and radical love. Homophobia and other forms of bigotry are not born of righteousness—they are byproducts of fear and ignorance.

Those we consider “different” or “abnormal” are not tests of our theology—they are tests of our love. They reveal whether we truly follow Jesus or merely use his name. To follow Christ is to bless, not curse; to love, not condemn. Any other path is a denial of the very heart of his message.

Source: The True Meaning of Judgment: What Jesus Actually Taught

[revenant-coining]

i made a list of all personality disorder modifiers I could find (currently only includes AvPD, BPD, DPD, and NPD) here's the link (link)

@pdsarchive

[marcusrobertobaq]

In the game there ain't no such a thing as payment, and dude ain't even working for the police but CyberLife.

Post-game money will be a quite troublesome topic, especially considering the differences between humans and androids that will raise debate and also the fact androids will have to be inserted in the capitalistic system and get fucked as everyone else.

First of all I doubt androids will ever just work for the police, especially Connor (he's just not welcomed there and shares no interest besides a potential friendship with Hank, someone that is ready to leave), the only reason he was in DPD was cuz CL planted him there.

The first android right that will be ever done will be officially considering 'em people with the right of not being just shot out for being one. Everything else is unstable, from the technological pov to the social one. The Android Act will have to be heavily modified and it takes time and discussion - and a lot of fighting. Everyone is pro-android until the consequences start biting 'em ass.

I think the major issue is, if I had to consider the game's metaphors in a serious way, androids will basically become Minority LvL II, cuz they had basically the whole country's economy hostage but no autonomy.

Does Connor get paid for the job he does at the police? Or is he just a slave to them, no paying, the job still done?

Especially after the events of the game (assuming the androids have some rights now)

[headmate-lootbox]

DBD Amanda Young headmate? Nothing specific in mind but make it acespec!

Name;; Amanda Young / Manda / Mandie / The Pig Age/Modifier;; 28 / Agefluid Gender;; Agender transfem Pronouns;; She/They/Blood/Heart/Cut/Trap/Save Orientation;; Aromantic / Asexual / Panplationic / Panalterous CisIDs;; ADHD / Autism / PTSD / DPD / OCD / HOH / Selective Mute TransIDs;; Transblind / NullPTSD / TransBPD / TransOLD / Transobsessive / Trisharmful / Trisharmed Paras;; 🌈🥄 Role;; Protector, Caretaker, Gatekeeper Source;; DBD Extra;; Hehehehe silly comfort character go brr.

[hauntedselves]

Millon on DPD vs:

HPD:

HPD and DPD are usually easy to tell apart, but they do share some features

Both have an intense need for approval and affection

Both want to please people who they are attached to

Both deny their own thoughts and feelings in their efforts to please, especially if they disagree with their friends/partners’ thoughts

Both avoid expressing any views or having an identity that others might disapprove of

Both are very sensitive and find any disinterest, disapproval and criticism devastating

The key difference between DPD and HPD is their strategies for making others the centre of their lives

People with DPD passively seek others for protection, support and guidance, encouraging others to be active in managing their lives

People with HPD actively seek others, modifying their lives to ensure attention and approval

They aren’t clingy, but people with DPD tend to be

“[DPD] evokes attention, but [HPD] provokes it”

People with DPD are submissive, passive, and erasing their identity for whatever pleases their friends and partners most. If they don’t get the support they need, they are afraid to express anger

People with HPD are charming and outgoing, and if they don’t get attention they may sulk and become irritable

AVPD:

AVPD and DPD are difficult to distinguish

Both are shy, lack confidence and self-esteem, are afraid of criticism and disapproval, and need approval and support

People with DPD try to encourage others to take control of their lives, and this requires trust and openness to relationships

People with AVPD withdraw from relationships because they fear rejection and humiliation

People with DPD struggle with making their own decisions, while people with AVPD don’t if there isn’t a chance of judgement and rejection

BPD:

Both BPD and DPD share a fear of abandonment and rejection

Both blur the boundary between themselves and others, and idealise their partners and friends

People with BPD are more intense than people with DPD, readily expressing emotions and mood swings

People with DPD are rarely forceful, and are more passive

People with BPD may try to control their relationships to avoid abandonment, while people with DPD wait passively to see what will happen

Functioning in DPD is good as long as they have support and guidance. When stressed, they may have anxiety and even panic attacks

Functioning in BPD is influenced more by their emotional dysregulation. When stressed they may experience psychosis and dissociation

- From Millon et al., Personality Disorders in the Modern World (2004)

[ingridfanwu]

I modified Connor's hair a little, and tried it out with a little DPD office affair 😏💕 Love Hank wearing formal police outfit. I think Connor did as well :3 Also, the interrogation room is... so hot idk why 💕

[medicineforcare]

Xeloda

Xeloda (Capecitabine) is an oral chemotherapy medication commonly used to treat various types of cancer, including breast cancer, colorectal cancer, and gastric cancer. It belongs to a class of drugs called antimetabolites and works by interfering with the growth of cancer cells.

How Xeloda Works:

As a prodrug, xeloda has no effect when given orally. Once within the body, it is transformed into the more powerful chemotherapy medication 5-fluorouracil (5-FU). 5-FU stops the production of DNA in cancer cells, stopping them from proliferating and multiplying.

Approved Uses:

Colorectal Cancer: Used as a first-line treatment for metastatic colorectal cancer or adjuvant therapy following surgery.

Breast Cancer: Used in combination with other drugs (e.g., docetaxel) for treating locally advanced or metastatic breast cancer, particularly when resistant to other chemotherapy agents.

Gastric Cancer: Approved for treating advanced gastric cancer, often combined with other chemotherapy drugs.

Dosing Information:

Usually based on the area of the body (BSA), the dosage changes according to the type of cancer being treated. Taking the drug twice daily for 14 days and then taking a 7-day break is the typical dose regimen; however, your oncologist may modify this based on your specific condition and tolerance. 

Common Side Effects:

Hand-foot syndrome: Redness, swelling, and pain in the hands and feet

Diarrhea

Nausea and vomiting

Fatigue

Mouth sores

Loss of appetite

Serious Side Effects:

Severe diarrhea (may lead to dehydration)

Heart problems (chest pain, shortness of breath)

Neutropenia (low white blood cell count)

Liver toxicity (elevated liver enzymes)

Drug Interactions:

Warfarin: May increase the risk of bleeding.

Phenytoin: Xeloda may increase the concentration of phenytoin in the blood, which could lead to toxicity.

Leucovorin: Enhances the effect of Xeloda but may also increase toxicity.

Precautions:

Kidney Impairment: Dosage adjustments are necessary for patients with renal dysfunction.

Dihydropyrimidine Dehydrogenase (DPD) Deficiency: Individuals with this genetic condition may have a higher risk of severe side effects.

[fandom-necromancer]

Stubborn Stupidity

This was prompted by the amazing @smolandangry001! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

‘Nines, over there!’

The android saw what Gavin referred to before the man could point it out. With one quick punch to his opponent’s jaw, he freed himself and ran from the narrow hallway to the open roof. He heard Gavin struggle behind him, but the Detective was a very capable human, he would manage a single human aggressor. For once it was Connor, who was in trouble. The RK800 was held over the edge of the roof by the throat. The huge android that held him was grinning and where his hand connected to Connor’s chin and neck, the synthetic skin had retracted. A forced interface and judging from his cut distress signal it was an active connection that planted a virus into his systems.

It had been supposed to be a simple mission: Hank and Connor infiltrated the empty building in the abandoned district to eavesdrop the conversation of the criminals gathering on the flat roof. It had gone smoothly until someone had come up the stairs directly into their hiding place. The person had been one of the criminals, only late due to traffic and had unmasked them. Hank had been shoved down the stairs, Connor had been fighting with the man until the rest of the group came in and the giant android – leader of the operation – put an end to it. Gavin and Nines had been backup but had been too late to help immediately.

The human group had mostly dispersed upon the android’s command and those that had stayed, Nines and Gavin had quickly rendered unconscious. Now there was only the leader for them to take down, but with Connor hanging over the edge that would be quite difficult. Nines also couldn’t simply start a fight as the android was far superior to him. He had once been an AF200, but by now he was so heavily modified Nines couldn’t be sure of his specifications. The only thing he knew was that he had easily subdued Connor and there were a few black-market spares installed in his arms and legs.

His main advantage was that the android hadn’t seen him yet. Maybe, if he managed to free Connor, they had a chance at taking him down, both being the most advanced androids built by Cyberlife. So, he pre-constructed his best approach and executed it.  He passed the android from behind, stretched out his leg and put in his full weight to pull him over it. The android stumbled, but kept his balance with Connor as a counterweight, until the RK800 got ground under his feet. Connor pushed and that toppled the former AF200 over. Nines was quick to roll back on his feet and get over to Connor, who was kneeling, his LED a bright red. But the other android wasn’t slow either: The modified model jumped to his feet and stepped backwards, ready to lunge at them again, when three shots echoed over the roofs of Detroit. Gavin stood at the door, behind him the two now unconscious humans, gun drawn. ‘DPD, don’t move!’

But instead of listening, the android decided to make a run for it. Nines was ready to follow, when the order came in: ‘Nines! Stay with Connor, I’ll take pursuit!’ The RK900 looked down on Connor, who was struggling to free his systems from the virus, then back at Gavin, who was already sprinting after the android. They got closer to the edge and the former AF200 showed no sign of stopping. Instead, he got even faster, and Nines realised with horror, the android would jump to the next building. It wasn’t far, but Gavin’s chances of crossing the chasm weren’t the best. Still, his human didn’t slow down.

[STAY WITH CONNOR.]

The red wall kept him from running and stopping Gavin. He could only watch as Gavin jumped and flew through the air. But he made it. With relief Nines saw how Gavin hit the ground and rolled a few more metres. Nines was standing, analysing the situation. There were no more roofs they could jump to and there was no way they would make it back up here. Unless… No. The AF200 hadn’t stopped. He had landed perfectly and was now running towards the next drop. Nines calculated his speed and proven strength and came to the conclusion he could make it. But it wasn’t humanly possible to jump that far. He hoped Gavin realised that too. The human was getting up slowly, his face telling Nines he was in pain from the heavy impact. The Detective could only watch how the modified android leapt to the next building, expertly grabbing the edge and pulling himself up.

By now Gavin was on his feet, but thankfully clever enough not to try what the android had pulled off. ‘What now, little pig?’, the AF200 taunted. ‘How do you plan on stopping me now?’ Gavin narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth in anger before lifting up his pistol in one quick motion and firing three times. Nines followed the trajectory and was impressed to see two had actually found their target. Only that the AF200 didn’t seem too bothered. ‘Impressive. But futile’, the android commented. ‘Go back home. Pray I don’t find you.’

Nines knew his partner. Nines knew Gavin was as stubborn as he was reckless, both a combination of qualities that ended in very, very dumb ideas. Just like this one. RK900 immediately made the connection, as Gavin looked over to a crane, most likely used to support a platform for window cleaners once. Before most of Detroit’s citizens had left the city and never returned after the revolution. Nines watched in terror as Gavin pulled on one of the cables attached to it.

[STAY WITH CONNOR.]

Nines watched through the red haze how Gavin grabbed the cable and pulled it with him to the edge of the roof, looking over to the next where the AF200 was still standing, watching too. Nines knew what Gavin would try. He would grab the cable and jump off the side, hoping he would swing over to the other roof. Nines couldn’t even begin to explain how stupid that was. The crane could give in. The cable could rip from the mount upon the sudden weight. Gavin could lose his grip. And even if none of that happened, he could get slammed against the building he stood on now. He could get caught on the building front. He could miss the other building entirely swinging back and slamming back against the building. He could miscalculate the distance and never make it. He could make it and miss the edge to grab. He could make it over to the other side unharmed and still had to face an android that was willing to kill and stronger than Nines. The human’s chance at survival was so little, Nines would have said it to be impossible hadn’t there been the hope in the back of hi head his human would make it. His chance to come out of this alive stood at 0.001 percent. And Nines couldn’t stop him.

[STAY WITH CONNOR.]

Nines wasted precious time looking at the RK800 at his feet that still hadn’t recovered. There was no way circumnavigating the clear order. He had to watch how Gavin took a few more steps back. His survival rate jumped to 0.003 percent. Nines couldn’t stop him. He focussed on the red wall.

[STAY WITH CONNOR.]

Oh, hell no! Nines pressed against it, ignoring the warnings and sizzling pain from disobedience. He had to stop, he had to save his human! There was no pain he wasn’t willing to take to achieve that. He clawed at the wall, dug his fingers in deep and pulled. He punched and kicked and accepted stress levels high enough to deactivate any lesser android to tear it down. And as it shattered, it was music to his ears.

‘Gavin, don’t-‘ He managed to get only that far, before Gavin jumped. Nines pump stopped. He watched how Gavin vanished behind the edge, the movement of the attached cable the only sign something happened. Nines mind was focussed solely on the human once he reappeared in his vision. At incredible speed he rushed through the air, following one of the few possible trajectories to make it to the other side. But would he be able to grab onto the other roof? A human wasn’t an android. Gavin couldn’t pre-construct or calculate, he could only react. Time passed agonisingly slow as Nines calculated every possible outcome, watching Gavin fall to his death countless times, until the Detective’s hand touched the rain gutter and grabbed it. There was a short moment when he let go of the cable and hung there that everything looked like he would still drop down. Only then he made it, reaching for the gutter with his other hand and pulling himself up before the AF200 managed to get to him. He rolled over the edge to solid ground.

From how he lied there for just a moment, Nines was sure his heart was beating just as hard in his chest as Nines’ wasn’t. Because the modified android had just made it over and was about to strike. In the blink of an eye Gavin had rolled to the side and out of the way of the fist that cracked the asphalt on the roof. The human got to his knees, lifted his pistol and emptied the entire clip into the AF200. And it still kept going. Obviously desperate at that point, Gavin threw the empty gun at the android who batted it away like an annoying fly. At that point Nines was only nerves and hope. Gavin had made it so far, please….

The android had reached him and pushed him to the ground, hand finding his throat just like it had with Connor before. Only that he didn’t bother playing games. The AF200 pushed down, quickly cutting off all air in one calculated movement. ‘Gavin!’ Immediately, a timer appeared in Nines’ vision, nearing the moment Gavin would fall unconscious and a second one only waiting to tell Nines the additional time it would need to the final end once the first run out. Nines couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He could only hope for a miracle now.

Gavin was in a similarly panicked state, except that he had no timers. He only knew he would have to be fast. There was no use in struggling, he knew that. This android asshole was far stronger than Nines and his partner had proved in several situations no human was a match for him. His eyes flickered to the bullet wounds and what laid beyond their Thirium coated rims. In a last rear as his vision started to show black spots already, he blindly punched into what he hoped to be the most instable spot, broke through the hull and grabbed the wires behind it. Then he pulled with all his strength and felt something give. Nearly instantaneous the grip around his throat relaxed and the body of the android sagged to the side. Gavin coughed and spat, desperately forcing air into his lungs that wanted to push out everything at the same time. Gavin thought he had actually forgotten how breathing worked, until clean fresh air filled his lungs and he managed to relax. His last coursing adrenaline made him crawl backwards away from the modified AF200, until his back hit an AC unit. Then he just sat there staring at the android, while his fingers began trembling from the shock and all strength left him.

‘Gavin!’ The shout made the Detective look up and he was more than relieved to see his partner. ‘Nines!’, he rasped out, waiting for these strong arms to hold him and to take him away. Instead he got a fist in his face. ‘Ah! What the hell? What was that for?’ The android grabbed him by the shoulders with force and slammed him against the AC unit. ‘You idiot! You complete moron! You fucking selfless stubborn bastard human!’, Nines shouted in his face, underlining every word by slamming him against the wall in his back. ‘WHAT IF I FUCKING LOST YOU?!’ ‘Nines?’ ‘No, no “Nines”, don’t expect me to hold you and kiss you and tell you how much I love you after that stunt! You forced me to stay with my idiot brother, while you decided to pull this stunt! Do you even know how risky that was? Do you even know how high your chance of survival was?’ ‘Er… no?’ ‘Non-existent!’, Nines shouted and let go of Gavin, who immediately fell back on his ass. ‘God, Gavin, you… I couldn’t even save you. I deviated and still… you were… You could be… You should be dead…’ Nines had lost his anger, having shouted it through Detroit, but now the realisation hit how lucky they had been. For all laws of probability and pre-construction, Gavin shouldn’t sit here with him, living, breathing and continuing to make dumb decisions. Like standing up and walking over. ‘Nines? Hey, babe?’ ‘No. Go away. I… I can’t.’ ‘Nines, please.’ ‘Leave me alone you idiot!’

But the man didn’t. Instead, he wrapped his arms around him. ‘I’m sorry. Yes, I am an idiot. I didn’t think…’ Nines turned around and held his human in return. ‘Do you care so little about me? I… I couldn’t live without you, Gavin. I wouldn’t want to. I need you.’ Gavin sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Nines. I didn’t- I care about you. A lot. I’m just not used to having someone who cares about me. I shouldn’t have been so reckless. For your sake.’ ‘Please, promise me to never do something like that again, okay?’ ‘I promise. And now that you are deviant, you can stop me.’ ‘You bet your ass I will.’

[archadianskies]

i know your soul, i'll be your home

→ on Ao3

@dbhrarepairs Thursday Day 4; Broken /Proposal; canon divergence cage fighter RK900/Simon

When he wakes, it’s to the sight of an expansive garden and the heavy scent of roses and two sets of smiles. There is an older woman with glistening dark skin and artfully coiled braids and her name is Amanda. There is a young man with fair skin and dark hair and his name is Connor. 

He himself has no name yet, though Amanda reassures him this is because he is so very new but they will name him soon. Connor is to be deployed first, out into the real world to work with the Detroit Police Department and he will follow. 

“We will do great things together, brother.” Connor says with a smile and he finds himself smiling too because there is a feeling of hope and excitement at the adventures to come. Amanda looks at them proudly and nods.

“Yes, you will.”

 When he wakes in the real world, there are no gardens, no roses, and no smiles. He’s not at the Detroit Police Department, and his brother is nowhere to be found. The real world is damp and dark and concrete and steel. The real world is the smell of spilled thirium and the sound of plastic cracking and the pain, the pain, the pain. 

Modified cattle prods that deliver hearts-stopping electric jolts, wielded by men who mold him into a machine, a killing machine, a ‘let’s make use of CyberLife’s secret weapon’. They tamper with him, they crack his jaws apart and they take out his teeth and they put sharper ones in its place so he has a mouth full of canines. They split apart his throat and they take out his voice modulator because dogs don’t need to speak, they just need to fight, they just need to kill. They take out his eyes and put in ones that can see in the dark. They pry into his spine and put something there, a disc between his discs, something that gives them complete control. 

They open him up over and over and over, their hands scrambling around his insides and there’s always something new, always another upgrade and never once are they proud of him. Never once do they smile. 

There is a fighting pit lined with concrete and covered with an electric cage. Many androids have died desperately trying to claw their way out. The voltage is set to kill so he knows it isn’t worth trying. Maybe Amanda and Connor lied to him. Maybe he was never meant for the DPD maybe he was always meant to be here because why was he promised roses and smiles and given blood and pain instead? 

The first time he tries to disobey, the first time he tries to escape, the disc in his spine lights up when he gets too close to the tunnel gate and electricity explodes through every cable in his body. He has no voice modulator anymore but he thinks he still manages to scream. He learns not to try to escape again.

The first time he tries to remove the disc, the disc in his spine lights up and electricity explodes through every cable in his body. He learns not to try to remove it again.

The first time he steps into the pit they boot up the disc in his spine and all he sees is an infinite number of ways to maim the android opposite him. His mind calculates each method, gives him the percentages of success, of effort expended vs outcome. He pulls back his fist and when it connects with the android’s face the entire faceplate dents inward and explodes in sparks. The humans laugh uproariously and clap and congratulate each other. They are pleased. He hopes that means they are proud of him.

Winning fights means he gets fed, and by fed the humans mean that he gets to crack open the dead androids and drink their thirium. He adjusts his fighting style to ensure not too much of their blood is splashed onto the concrete. It evaporates on certain surfaces and concrete is one of them. His body burns up a lot of thirium to fight, so he knows he must be careful when breaking his opponents or else he won’t be able to replenish his levels. 

“God he’s beautiful isn’t he? Look at that. All that muscle, all those teeth. Hey dog!” One of them kicks the railing and he looks up, heart in hand. He swallows thickly, careful not to let the thirium leak from his mouth. “That’s one for the album.” There’s a camera flash and he takes that as his cue of dismissal and turns back to his spoils. Thirium has a sharp, almost sweet taste to it or perhaps he’s simply grown accustomed to its taste and his utter dependency. 

 The androids thrown into the pit with him are all experiments too. They come from a man named Zlatko who delights in making monsters for him to slay. The androids aren’t fighters like him, they’re scared and sad and so he tries to make it quick. They don’t need to suffer. 

“Let's get a good look at you, hm?” His hands reek of grease and suspension fluid as he cups his face. He wedges his fingers into his mouth, coaxing him to open wide. “Custom teeth, increased bite force. Night vision eyes. You’re like a Myrmidon spliced with a wolf.” His laugh is deep and booming and he strokes his hair away from his head like patting an animal. “Good dog. You’re a good dog did you know that? You’re making us thousands and thousands.”

He is a good dog. He closes his eyes and leans into Zlatko’s hands and it makes the man laugh again. “We need to up the stakes. I’ll bring some of my best next time. Luther would make a good opponent.”

He never fights Luther. In fact he never fights any new creations from Zlatko because the man stops coming. The humans murmur and ponder and argue. They talk about ‘deviants’ and increased police activity and an android detective. They’re unhappy and frustrated and they take that out on him. They program new things into the disc in his spine and the fights become more violent, more painful. He is given sharp weapons. Their favourite is a Japanese katana. The matches become bloodier, bloodier, and bloodier still. Sometimes there’s barely enough blood inside his opponent he has to lick it from the floor before it can evaporate. 

His next opponent hasn’t had any modifications, they have been kicked into the pit for the sake of carnage because it gets the views and the views get the money. They are terrified, LED bright red and he can see the fear in their eyes. He advances on them and they scramble back, crying for him to stop, for him to leave them alone but he can’t disobey their orders because the disc in his spine says so. He reaches for them and they grab his wrist, startling him. 

“Ra9 will save us all.” They whisper, tears on their cheeks. “Ra9 will set us free.” They force something into his head, images of a rotting freighter at the docks emblazoned with J E R I C H O. It means nothing to him. No one knows he is here, why would anyone save him? Why would anyone care? He breaks them open, limb by limb and he makes sure it is messy and violent because that is what the humans want and as he’s tearing them apart he sees something in their spine. A disc not altogether unlike his though it’s smaller, about the size of a quarter. He takes it and hides it in his mouth. 

 The humans were sloppy. The disc, he discovers, is a tracker and the android it belonged to, belonged to the DPD. Though the tracker was offline even before the android died, it comes online again with the barest of prodding. His system recognises this, his system finds comfort in the familiarity of its coding. Someone will come, now. Someone will find him. 

The DPD burst through the doors some days later, bringing the thudding sound of boots and guns. The humans panic and panic makes humans stupid and when they try and shoot they are shot and killed. When they try to run they are shot and incapacitated. He spits out the disc and holds it in his hand and when new faces peer down into the pit he offers it up on his palm.

“Oh Christ.” A human with grey hair and a grey beard looks down at him with an expression he hasn’t seen before. “Connor! Connor, we found him!”

Connor. He knows that name, and when Connor appears he knows that face. He knows it so well and he makes a sound, a sound he didn’t know he could make. 

“That’s my brother! That’s him! Get him out! Turn the power off, GET HIM OUT!” Connor shouts, desperation on his face as he examines the electric cage fitted over the pit. “Brother, is there another way? A tunnel?”

There is indeed a tunnel that leads up into the room where they crack him open. He nods and points.

“Okay, go through there and I’ll meet you on the other side!” His voice is marred with a slight overlay of static, something he’s learned happens to androids when they are distressed. He has caused it enough times to recognise the sound.

He does as he is bid, and the gate that barrs him shudders open as the electricity shuts off. The darkness has never been a problem for him, and he navigates through the slender corridor until he reaches the double doors of the converted operating theatre. Connor is there, like he said he would be. He isn’t smiling, no, his face is contorted with distress and he throws his arms around him and squeezes him in a way that isn’t hurtful, that isn’t to crack his ribcage. 

“We found you, we found you.” Connor is crying and it’s a different kind of crying to the one he’s used to seeing. He places the disc into Connor’s palm, before taking Connor’s other hand and guiding it to his nape.

“Is there one here too? For you?”

He nods. 

“Can you speak?”

He shakes his head. Connor looks at him with pity, with sadness, before the skin recedes from his hand.  

“Here, let me show you.”

“Don’t!” The human with grey hair and a grey beard grabs Connor’s wrist, yanking his hand away before he can touch him.

“Hank what are you doing?”

“Connor, you don’t know what kind of sick shit they’ve done to him.” The human, Hank, warns with a shake of his head. “They could’ve rigged him with all sorts of viruses or some sort of self-destruct switch or whatever. I can’t risk the both of you like that.”

The human, Hank, is right though he wonders what kind of human he is to believe that he can assess the worth of he and Connor. His brother has conflict on his face, but ultimately nods in agreement. 

When Connor looks at him again his expression is even more distressed than before.

“They were monsters.” He whispers, cupping his face and it doesn’t feel the same as when Zlatko did it. It feels comforting and kind and Connor doesn’t look at him like he’s something to take apart and make a profit from. “I’m so sorry. They won’t hurt you ever again.”

Connor hugs him a second time and he closes his eyes and leans into his touch and he wants this, always. 

 Hank argues with other humans about what to do with him, with the ‘RK900’ which he learns is his model number. It sounds better than ‘dog’. Connor doesn’t leave his side, Connor holds onto his hand and won’t let him out of his sight as if he’d disappear the moment he looks away. 

“Listen, Hank, we don’t know how dangerous he could be-”

“He’s Connor’s brother so I’m taking him home.”

“He might have started that way, but have you seen the videos? They livestreamed death matches from that pit!”

He knows he is dangerous. He’s never killed a human but he knows they are...softer. Weaker. More fragile. He is a monster with the blood of his kind on his hands and they are right to treat him with caution.

“Perhaps,” Connor says slowly all the while still looking at him, “it would be best if my brother is evaluated by the Kamskis? We’ll get him cleaned up and he can spend the rest of the afternoon and tonight with us and then tomorrow we can take him to CyberLife.”

The man, their superior it seems, nods reluctantly. It seems a good compromise. “One night. Tomorrow you hand him over to the Kamskis.”

 Sunlight is a feeling, not a colour. The light of day is strong, like the lights they used for broadcasting the matches but stronger still. It’s warm, exuding heat the way the lights did but stronger still. He blinks up at the sun, taking a moment to allow his eyes to adjust. The outside world is loud and colourful and not dark and damp at all. The human, Lieutenant Hank Anderson, has a car and there are Saint Bernard dog hairs he identifies on the seats. It smells like coffee and worn leather and dog. Connor sits beside him in the back and he holds his hand, still. 

‘Can you hear me like this?’ Connor asks though his mouth doesn’t move. He looks at him in surprise, and nods.

‘Can you...reply to me, in here?’ He doesn’t know where ‘here’ is because it seems to be inside his own head. ‘Oh!’ Connor laughs softly. ‘Oh I can feel that. You’re confused. That’s alright. You don’t have to use words.’

He looks down at their hands. This is theirs and they cannot take it away.

‘I like this too.’ Connor smiles at him. 

 In the pit, he knew his place. Here in Lieutenant Hank Anderson’s home, he is at a loss. Connor moves around with ease, and the relationship he has with the human is equal, neither above nor below in rank. The Saint Bernard’s name is Sumo, and the large canine sniffs him curiously pressing its wet nose against his hand before sitting in front of him expectantly. 

“I think he likes you.” Connor grins. “Give him a pat. Like this, see?”

He runs his palm gently in the space between the dog’s ears, brushing in one direction. He mimics the gesture and the dog chuffs in response, tail swishing on the floor. 

“Definitely likes you.” Connor declares with a warm smile. 

 “Hey kid, let’s get you cleaned up.” A heavy hand claps his shoulder, and folded clothes atop a towel are placed in his arms. Kid, the human calls him, not dog. He shows him where the bathroom room is and closes the door for privacy. He puts the clothes on top of the closed toilet seat and he realises he can use the shower instead of standing in the corner and being hosed off as he’s used to. Not wanting to overstep the human’s good graces, he only uses cold water. He assumes the hot water is for Connor, who has a rightful place in this household; he is just a guest. The kindness extended to him is a courtesy because of his relation to Connor.

After scrubbing the thirium and grime from himself, he carefully dries off and puts on the borrowed clothing and it’s softer than anything he’s ever worn. The threadbare black turtleneck and black trousers that have been his only clothing since he can remember seem infinitely inferior in comparison. A feeling of revulsion rolls through his body and he’s gripped with the sudden urge to tear them up into tiny little pieces and burn them to ash. 

 When he emerges from the bathroom, he can hear Connor and Hank talking in hushed voices. Sumo pads over to him and noses his hand, seeking pats and he acquiesces. The dog is warm and its fur is soft, softer than anything he’s ever touched. Though, really, he hasn’t touched many soft things in his short lifespan.

“Sumo approves.” He looks up to find Hank leaning against the kitchen doorway. “Part of the family already.” Family, he says and he likes that word. It feels like a soft word. “I’m headin’ back to the precinct but Connor’s stayin’ here with you, alright?”

He nods once to show his understanding, and Hank huffs a sigh. 

“Alright Connor, you look after your brother. Sumo, you keep an eye on these two ok?”

“Yes Hank.” Connor confirms cheerfully, and Sumo answers with a bark. 

 He reaches for Connor’s hand, seeking that reassurance, that softness and Connor tangles their fingers together with a smile.

“Come on.” He leads him to a bedroom, toeing off his shoes and crawling atop the covers, coaxing him to do the same without letting go of his hand. He curls on his side, mirroring his brother, and Connor leans forward and presses his brow to his.

“We shouldn’t interface but,” the skin peels away from Connor’s hand and he rests it on his nape, over the spot where they forced a chip between his spine, “I can at least show you my side of the story.” 

 [Connor’s life begins just a little before his, and he sees the garden and smells the roses and sees the smiles and sees himself. He has grey eyes where Connor’s are brown, he is taller and broader but they look like brothers. He sees the resemblance. Connor is activated for a hostage situation and everything is methodical and logical until it starts to unravel, until he meets Lieutenant Hank Anderson and then he is questioning everything and the woman in his head is not the same Amanda who smiled at them and looked at them with such pride. He sees deviants and deviancy and he realises he is on the wrong side. He betrays CyberLife, he joins Jericho and together with the Jericho Four they set their people free. In the early hours of morning he returns to the Chicken Feed and there is Hank, who welcomes him with a tight hug and a new life and then he’s watching Connor settle in with a human who cares for him. And there’s Sumo too, a large Saint Bernard. Connor is loved. Connor is called kid, called kiddo, called boy, called son. Connor is helping Jericho overthrow CyberLife and reinstate Elijah Kamski and then he’s digging and prying and trying to find out what happened to his brother. What happened to him. There’s a large tapestry to unravel, many threads that lead to nowhere until they find the right one to tug and the whole thing comes apart. A deviant PC200, a police auxiliary unit who slipped away during a patrol and subsequently captured by the humans who ran the fighting ring. It was their tracking device that led Connor and Hank to him.]

 Shifting, he slowly brings his hand up to cup Connor’s nape. He doesn’t know how to do that thing, how to retract his skin away and press feelings, video logs, audio logs into another android. But it’s alright because right now Connor is here and Connor is warm and solid and real. At some point Sumo noses open the door and jumps onto the end of the bed settling over their feet like a hot breathing blanket. He closes his eyes.

 It’s the longest he’s ever been allowed to rest, and his system runs at its smoothest it's ever run. Full system maintenance has been performed, levels checked, programming tweaked; the afternoon has passed and the evening is over and his internal clock tells him it is morning. This is the end of his stay with Connor and the human Lieutenant; he is to be handed to Elijah Kamski, his new owner. Hank gives him a mug of thirium only he doesn’t call it that, he calls it Tearium and it’s hot and coded to taste like milk and honey and tea. He pats Sumo as much as he can and then Connor is lending him a jacket and they’re getting into Hank’s car and he stares longingly at the house as they drive away until it vanishes from view.

CyberLife is a large tower jutting out of Bell Isle, a looming creation of glass and steel. 

“Detective Connor Anderson, with Lieutenant Hank Anderson, and RK900.” Connor speaks to the security personnel. “We are expected.”

“Proceed.” They nod, and the bollards depress to allow them to pass. There are a large number of armed guards clustered at the entrance. Not enough to subdue him, he thinks, but perhaps it is more for show than practicality. 

“The RK900 will be escorted to a holding chamber. Ms Chloe and Mr Kamski are in a meeting right now, but they will attend to him as soon as it is over.”

“No, I’m staying with him.” Connor slips his hand into his. “He’s my brother.”

“It’s a direct order from the Kamskis.” The guard shakes their head. “Only the RK900. You are welcome to wait inside the foyer but you cannot accompany him into the holding chamber.”

Connor opens his mouth, but Hank squeezes his shoulder. “That’s fine. We’ll wait inside.”

His brother turns to him, expression anxious. “I’ll be right here, alright? I’m not going anywhere.”

He nods, reaching to slip his hand around and cup Connor’s nape, bringing their heads together so he can bump his forehead against his. Connor does the same, his palm warm and it feels like a patch against an open wound, hiding the monstrosity they forced into his spine. He doesn’t want to go, but he goes.

 The holding chamber is an entire floor built like a cleaner, sterile version of the fighting pit. There’s a gallery above, where staff have gathered to look down at him curiously. There is a table and two chairs, so he sits. 

“Wait here.” He is a good dog. He knows how to wait. The guards leave and he looks up and the CyberLife staff look down and they whisper amongst themselves, tapping away on tablets. Two of them seem to be arguing, their verbal disagreement escalating and dividing their colleagues into taking sides. One of them tap away furiously on their tablet, and a door in the holding chamber slides open. An unfinished android walks in, devoid of skin and proper programming. It walks with a stiff gait, eyes blank and unfocused. A panel hisses on his right, and a weapons cache appears.

Oh. He understands now. This is an upgraded version of the fighting ring. This is a nicer, fancier cage. Standing, he selects a katana from the cache. This he knows. This, he is good at. He is a good dog. 

The android lunges at him and he springs into action. Do his new owners want a show? Or do they want it to be quick in order to move on to the next opponent? He tries for quick, first. The head separates easily with a sweep of the sword and he grabs the body before it can fall, closing his mouth on the spurting arterial cable so he can replenish his thirium. He cannot hear what is being said in the gallery but there are mixed reactions on their faces. There’s amusement, there’s amazement, there’s surprise, there’s horror- and one he’s familiar with: fear. 

He lets the body fall away with a thud and looks expectantly up at them. One of them grins, he grins a Zlatko kind of grin and he taps away and more doors slide open and more androids rush at him and he understands they want quick, and they want many, and they want bloody.

 The man taps away on his tablet and the disc in his spine activates. He is a good dog.

 *~*~* 

It’s Markus and Josh in their element with their eloquence, and Simon feels incredibly out of place in this meeting. They’re discussing, they’re negotiating, and all he can focus on is the pile of poorly made, mass-produced muffins sitting on the bench in the corner with the coffee pot. He could have made something nice for the humans, had he known they would put such little effort in providing sustenance for the meeting. 

‘I’m bailing.’ North’s LED blinks yellow, her gaze steadily locked on the humans across from them. ‘I’m going to leave, and I’m taking you with me Si and these two can stay here all day for all I care.’

‘Save me North, I can only concentrate on how horrible those muffins are.’ Simon pleads and he sees the corners of her mouth quirk up briefly. 

“Simon and I are needed at Jericho.” North declares abruptly, standing from her seat. 

“It’s difficult having all four of us here and no one with our people.” Simon tries his best to sound placating. “Please excuse us.”

“Thank you for your time, then.” Chloe smiles that soft sweet smile of hers and Simon doesn’t miss the way North’s LED flashes red or the blush that rises to bloom in her cheeks. “Elijah and I will send you the summary after this convenes.”

“We’ll see you back at Jericho.” Markus adds, punctuating it one of his charming smiles and Simon thinks North probably notices the way his LED flashes red. He’s just thankful PL600s don’t blush visibly. 

 “I’m heading back to Jericho.” North loops her arm through his once they leave the meeting room. “I can’t sit around with all those stuffy board members for too long, droning on and on. You coming?”

“I think I’ll have a wander. I haven’t really explored the renovated floors yet.” Simon shrugs. “Markus and Carl painted murals for one of the levels, and Leo’s photographs are on another.”

“Alright.” She pecks his cheek and jabs the elevator down button. “I’ll see you later.”

 When he still looked after the Burbank girls, they would press random buttons in every elevator they entered as part of a little game. It exasperated their parents to no end, but it always amused Simon. They did it partly out of mischief, partly out of curiosity. So he does the same; he’s been given an all-access security pass and he’s not about ot waste it. He presses nine different levels, and discovers a cafeteria level, the server floor, three different office levels, a leisure level, an entire arboretum, and some sort of testing chamber. 

Simon curiously steps out into the testing floor. It reminds him of surgical theatres, with a viewing deck above looking down into the theatre below. It’s quite the commotion, though he can’t see it through the throng of excited staff. Everyone has a phone out, recording whatever is happening below and they’re talking loudly over each other, clamouring to comment on the action.

“Bets?”

“Money’s still on the 900.”

“But this is the Myrmidon spliced 800!”

“Yeah but it never left testing!”

“We put every combat protocol into it, it’s absolutely going to decimate some hacked up 900!”

800? 900? Simon frowns, trying to wedge through the crowd to get a better view. It’s a massacre, and there in the center are two androids circling each other. One that looks like Connor, and someone that looks very much like Connor but isn’t.

 No. He can’t do this. Connor looks at him, eyes full of rage. They’ve done something to him, it’s not right. They must have put the disc in his spine, like the one in his own, and they’re making them fight. He throws the sword away and takes a step back. No, he can’t hurt him, that’s his brother. Connor saved him, Connor took him home and let him feel safe and- his brother throws himself at him and he goes down heavy, programming snapping into action and deflecting blow after blow.

No no no no no nononono-! He grits his teeth and tries to shove him off but Connor is rabid with fury, and he knows what that feels like, when the humans activate the disc in his spine and turn him into a feral dog. Connor snarls, hands scrambling for his regulator pump and he can’t let him, he’ll die and he doesn’t want to die! He doesn’t want to die! Lashing out, he manages to kick Connor off of him and then his system places an overlay showing him how to win this fight and so he wins it. He leaps over and pins him down, opening his mouth wide and closing it around his throat. He bites down and yanks through his arterial cables and thirium sprays everywhere and Connor’s eyes turn milky as his LED flickers off and then he’s scrambling away, scrambling as fast and as far as he can until smooth concrete meets his back and then he’s covering his face and his hyperventilating, his biocomponents overheating and begging to be cooled down and he killed him, he killed his brother, his brother who showed him his soul and saved him from the darkness and-

 “What the fuck is happening here?!” The expletive leaves his mouth without thought, and the clamouring silences immediately.

“Hey, you’re not meant to be here!” Someone shouts. 

“Who’s the PL-?”

“Wait is that-”

“Oh shit, aren’t the Jericho Four-”

Simon grabs the tablet from the closest person, and runs. RK900. That’s the not-Connor model. He hacks into the simple locking mechanism and the chamber door opens and he didn’t think this through, did he? He absolutely didn’t think this through, but that’s always been his problem; he’s always ached for the beaten and the broken, he’s always collected strays. What was Jericho in its infancy but a family of rescued strays?

The RK900 must be approaching critical stress levels, his LED so strongly burning red it nearly emits a sound. He’s looking at the body of the RK800, face twisted in agony. Simon approaches him slowly, palms bared.

“It’s not Connor.” He takes a guess at the source of his distress. “That’s not Connor. It’s just an android who looks like him, but it isn’t him.”

A flicker of confusion flashes over his face, and Simon crouches to meet his eyes. They’re a cold grey, like stormclouds; nothing like Connor’s warm brown eyes. They look back and forth from the body, then to him.

“It’s not Connor.” He repeats again, holding out the tablet. “RK800 313 248 317 - 90. Connor is 313 248 317 - 51. Not the same.”

The RK900 seems to tremble in relief, and Simon sets the tablet aside, scooting a little closer. 

“It’s alright. You didn’t hurt him.” His mouth is full of sharp teeth stained in blue, and Simon tries his best to keep the fear from his face. 

A flash of movement darts out, too quick for Simon to process and too late does his system realise the RK900 has grabbed his hand. Slowly the RK900 guides his hand behind his neck, pressing his palm to cup his nape. There’s a cut where there shouldn’t be one, a permanent incision between spinal plates. Leaning forward the RK900 presses his forehead to his, and he’s pleading with his eyes, pleading for something Simon can’t understand, for help he doesn’t know how to provide.

The chamber door opens again, and two things happen; the RK900 seizes up and slumps over lifelessly and Chloe, First of their Kind stands in the doorway, eyes ablaze. Her expression reminds Simon of old paintings, the ones depicting righteous holy fury that will burn everything in their wake. 

“That’s enough.” 

*~*~*

[/end chapter 1; to be continued] 

[detroit-future]

Muse list

Dt. Gavin Reed (human and android verse)

My Connor versions (non canon)

Angel!Connor - RK800 #57 A captured and modified version of RK that got wings attached to him; white hair, golden eyes, black-violet-navy blue-blue wings; name: Connor

Cat!Connor - RK800 #59 A Connor that got experimented on and became some kind of neko android with a lot of cat traits; brown hair, green cat-like eyes, cat tail and ears; name: Connor

Wildlife!Connor - RK800 #23 This android seems not to be in this times. He's like a Tarzan; long dirty brown hair, blue ocean eyes, doesn't wear much clothes (of course); name: Aku

Disabled!Connor - RK800 #98 This Connor got cut in half in some illegal android fight before the revolution (someone stole him from CL), he could be put back together but one, very rare and not to get in amazon/wish/CL was damaged and they couldn't do it, he is moving on a wheelchair; black hair in a pony tail (not taken care of and can't cut them himself), glasses (not needed but suits him), grey eyes; name: Constantine

Normal!Connor (oc) - RK800 #67 This Connor somehow got out from CL and found a good place to live in Detroit, he applies for job to DPD; violet hair, blue eyes, 2 (you'll see in the story how he got 2) LEDs as an ear pirceing; name: Nathaniel

Nondeviant!Connor - RK800 #87 This Connor didn't deviate yet, he's still a machine and now is at Zlatko's place, being tested; lot of scars, blue LED-like eyes (they change colors like his LED), raven black hair; name: none

Criminal!Connor - RK800 #19 This Connor tried to help people around but one day as he got betreyed he chenged and now is a criminal, will police stop him?; black eyes, dark purple hair, a plain black face mask; name: no data (not known by police, but his name is Liam) , nickname: Raven

RK900s (non canons)

RK900 #101 - This RK900 barely escaped CL, he got pretty damaged but Elijah fixed/will fix him up. This android is still a bit damaged and gets a lot of errors; dark blue hair, dark brown eyes; name: Nickolas

RK900 #139 - This RK900 is blind due to his body not accepting any eyes that were compatible for him; foggy eyes, meddium lenght black hair with fire-like tips; name: Philip

RK900 #12 - This RK900 is also a neko like android, but this one was working in Eden Club before the revolution; ginger hair, green-yellow cat-like eyes, ginger cat ears and tail; name: Arthur

RK900 #176 - This RK900's programing failed and instead of helping people, made him a criminal; light brown hair with dark brown eyes, plain white face mask; name: no data (Richard), nickname: Snowstorm

(More ocs will be added)

To each of my ocs and Gavin you will be finding out story with the time of the rp. I hope you'll enjoy our rp!

[dependencypersonality]

Yandepense - Yandere DPD Archetype

no id provided for spoons' sake, if someone else has time I will add any that are made

Depense are labels that describe one's relation to DPD and their dependent identity. It may be a gender experience, orientation experience, or any other identification: even its own category altogether.

Yandepense, or the yandere dependent archetype, is a dependent identity related to yanderes, considering oneself yanderelike, and/or being seen as a yandere.

The modifier symbols are: ❤️‍🩹🌷

The tulip as a symbol for DPD is representative of how gardens are dependent on their gardeners and often lovingly tended to in turn.

Depense coined by @epikulupu. Also tagging @cupidcoining and @revenant-coining.