A small hand covered the handle of a shotgun, metallic fingers tightening delicately around the handle as the holder shifted the gun upwards and towards the quickly darkening sky. They could swear they saw something flying up in front of the orange sky, disappearing behind a cloud. Maybe it was just a hallucination, maybe it was not. But Murdoc sounded pretty freaked out when he apparently saw something flying in the sky. They were sitting a small bit away at the time, not caring whether he was flipping his absolute shit or not. But now he had sent them out to go shoot down anything they saw in the dusk above them; not caring if it was something like a seagull or a plane. Just destroy it. Turn it into a bloody or smoking pile of dead in the ocean or on the beach. Make sure it doesn't blow up the place where they live. Simple enough. Destroy things? That was they're specialty.
Cyborg cocked the shotgun, and with a swift banging sound she shot the bullet, and it did nothing to the thing in the sky. Must of been a plane. What could one bullet do to a plane? Besides, it just seemed to be some sort of airline. Cyborg slowly lowered the gun, watching the plane cruise by. Goodbye plane.
The female was a robotic clone of Noodle, the guitarist of a band called Gorillaz after Noodle's supposed death. Other than looks and voice she wouldn't be considered a exact replica of the guitarist. Cyborg was much more, well, robotic than the other. It was destined, considering that she was in fact an android. But she would consider herself being at least a bit human. She would never be the perfect replacement of Noodle, but something at least a bit human compared to different androids and robots.
She was still focusing her gaze to the sky, observing for more moving objects up behind the clouds or in the horizon. But eventually she decided that there wasn't anything really on this side of the beach, and she lowered her focus to the yellow sand and lapping shore circulating the border of Plastic Beach. Some trash was floating in the water- more garbage lodged in the sand and even more in nasty smelling piles near the house. The piles of garbage just under some of the windows were mostly made of broken liquor bottles and crumpled up pieces of paper, indicating that this was clearly Murdoc's domain. The self-proclaimed Trash King of Plastic Beach. The ruler with his robotic servant and his terrified prisoner, forced to do whatever the King himself wanted. A disgusting ruler with his trash covered kingdom in the middle of the sea.
Cyborg kicked a crumpled pop can aside, and began her journey around the beach to the other side to look some more. Her boots made trekking in the sand harder than normal, and more often than not Cy would trip but swiftly regain her balance and would continue to move like normal. She could distantly hear stuff going on inside the house, some singing and then yelling by Your Majesty himself. Probably recording time, nothing of Cyborg's business. Acknowledging but as well as ignoring the noises above the android rounded around the perimeter of the beach, occasionally looking upwards or occasionally fiddling with her gun. She stopped her moving after about ten minutes, looking upwards to the sky and watching for anything that might be moving. Cyborg had rounded to a shaded area of the beach, under the house above near a small opening to what she imagined would be a small cave inside. The noises of recording and abuse were louder now that she was closer to the building, and she was now very close to a particularly large and smelly pile of rotting garbage, mostly made of broken beer bottles.
The robot leaned backwards, lazily pointing her gun to the now darkened and clear sky, finger rubbing the handle gently as she waited for something to zoom past. Nothing, of course. By now Cyborg was certain it was just a harmless airline. Nothing to be afraid of, Murdoc! She huffed lightly, swinging her foot lazily back and forth, listening to the soft plinks as she hit her heel against a glass bottle. At first nothing, but then when she swung her foot again, it stuck. She could feel something tightening around her ankle.
At first alarm and confusion filled her gaze, and Cyborg instantly ripped her foot from the thing that grabbed it and she whipped around, shotgun raised, and she fired multiple times at whatever had grabbed her. The gun caused glass to shatter everywhere, as well as sand kicking up from the impact of the bullets. Eventually the shots turned into clicks as all the bullets were fired, and the panting Cyborg took back a step, teeth bared as she waited for something to happen.
Sticking from the pile of glass and garbage was a small hand, skin peeled and rotting, leaving a metallic grey color to the hand. Rust covered the fingers and wrist, and the hand was weakly grabbing at anything it could touch; it had taken hold of a particularly sharp piece of glass and was playing with it, fingers audibly creaking as it moved. Cyborg looked at the hand, silent, until she slowly bent downwards, reaching out to gently graze her thumb over the metal appendage.
At the touch it seemed to spasm, before it grabbed Cyborg's hand and began to desperately tug it forward. Cy kept her grip on the hand, but made it so that the metallic hand was still out in the open, so she could watch it. The metal hand at first was just tugging, but slowly stopped, seemingly confused as to why the thing it was holding kept it's ground. The hand seemed to pause, almost curious looking, before it explored the smooth and cold skin with it's own rusted and rough fingers. Cyborg could consider herself amused, and she pulled her own hand away, and bent down lower to the hand to say "Hello?" In her monotone voice.
Almost instantly her ears were greeted with aggressively loud static and her eyes were met with a hand engulfed in crazy spasms, restrained by the glass above it.
There was something under there, something alive.