As a preface to this story, it was written during the halfway point of Volume 8 and was under the assumption that the character of Penny Polendina would remain as a Robotic girl and would maintain functional post-Volume 8. Obviously, those assumptions were incorrect. In general, this work of fiction operates under several ideas such as the idea that Penny still has the powers of the Winter maiden and that Atlas does not collapse into Mantle. However, the goal of this story is to highlight the potential longevity that Penny herself could endure and also a testament to her character, while also presenting a hypothetical look into what future she has.
Once upon a time, there lived a little girl, who hoped to save the world like the legends of old. She aspired to become a huntswoman and serve the righteous crusade that flowed through her genealogy. Like her mother before her, she found friends and family to fight alongside her crusade; while it was painful at times and there were losses greater than when the setting moon overshadowed the sun and plunged her world into darkness incarnate she rose. She lifted herself up via sheer determination and unflinching resolve and brought victory from the brink of defeat despite the impossibility of success. Little Ruby Rose was the savior of her world, and she was very much loved by all.
Her scythe and flowing red cloak became a beacon of hope to the masses, they called her a leader, a savior, a friend, and to one individual, she was a lover.
Along her path to victory, she met an oddity, quite a curious oddity in fact. A machine that resembled the look of man. It was designed out of a desire to conquer the dark, out of fear and hatred, a machine that contained the very essence of man, but, lacking the flesh and bone that had made them so very fragile. Built and conceived as a new weapon of war, she was meant to be man's solution, a new soulless automaton against waves of soulless automaton. Penny Polendina was the machine's designation, and the world feared her at times.
The machine had emerald eyes that dazzled brightly as she soared through the skies and great green rays of magic heralding her fearsome might. To some, she was a military asset to be used in a never-ending war, to some she was a strange puppet crafted by madmen, but ultimately, she was loved by one person. It's always one person, the one that would matter the most.
Tragedy then struck the machine. In a duel to display her prowess, her body was shred, cut to ribbons, drawn, and quartered by a warrior of unrivaled strength. Not even the combat algorithms hardwired within its software could have predicted this outcome as thick tungsten ropes wrapped around her arms and feet, coiling her limbs in demented manners, her systems found the sensation to be frightening, and she shutdown before she was even splintered. Yet, it did not scream as she knew not how to. Like an infant that hadn't learned to walk yet, no pain came from her vocals.
It was a painful sight to see her robotic friend fall, she was the first companion to die on their epic journey, and the death had shattered Ruby's once joyous heart. It was a death that had steeled her resolve and placed her into a metamorphosis, from girl to woman. Of course, she was no stranger to death, she had been orphaned by a loving mother in her youth as well, but the visceral entanglement played out in front of her. As a cocoon wrapped around her during her grief, her heart held onto her dear friend's warm memory in a tight embrace. Never gone, never forgotten but kept warmly within her grasp as change swept over her.
Then, a miracle happened. Miracles in the world of Remnant were rare, they were never meant to occur as such a thing were not even within the calculations of the gods. They had hedged their bets on the idea that humanity was capable of great triumphs and terrible destruction, but never that they could construct miracles. So, it came as a great shock to all, as the robot that had seen dismemberment a few long months ago, was now resurrected good as new, with a new pink bow and a fresh coat of Caucasian paint. Her creator pledged to the world that she was as good as new, proudly praising his craftsmanship and pledging its duty to protect their kingdom. Such was the chaos of their world, where the damnation of a metal soul was meant to protect the weak, the tired, and the huddled masses.
The citizens of Atlas were concerned, to say the least at first. What witchcraft had been done to resurrect the same techno-organic puppet? What science had been used? What ethical qualities had been trespassed in the name of scientific utilitarianism? Was it the even same puppet that they had resurrected in its stead? These questions were heard by the machine girl and heard them well she had. She was a machine, after all, each stressed syllable ever spoken within earshot had been heard and cataloged by her. It was an impossibility for her to ever consider even forgetting.
Those that she had been ordered to protect, acted strangely around her. Whenever she approached them, they stood in a tense fashion as if they shared an antagonistic dynamic. Their eyes would narrow, and their lips would bend downward, their muscles tensed as if they were fearing a cowardly attack to approach them. She could never change that look, it was cataloged as fear, but her creator called it suspicion.
On one faithful evening, down upon the cold streets, their eyes met once again. A current of joy bolted within her processor as she tackled Ruby in the middle of Mantle. Her boots flared with green desire as she wrapped her arms around her long-not-seen friend, it was a sight often seen at airports or at family reunions, but their's was special, this was their reunion and it had been long overdue. It was a tackle that would have made professional coaches proud of the form
The next few turbulent years saw our heroes reunited once more. They crawled through all nine circles of hell and more as they wrestled with the dark depths of the past and sought to secure a future of just and stable peace. To secure a world not threatened by the wild monsters summoned by the mad witch Salem, or the sharp sting of betrayal by once well-respected allies. To create a world where everyone loved each other, the ultimate pursuit of hedonistic happiness.
They wanted to create a fairy tale ending, like the ones read to them before their fathers tucked them in for the night. Stories where the brave heroes that journeyed through ghouls, demons, and all sorts of barbaric monstrosities, would then vanquish all the wrongdoings in the world so that children would sleep warmly with parents by their sides instead of cowering beneath their beds.
And so glorious battle was met, on a faithful day. The robotic knight herself flew into battle with ancient powers supported by a loving friend by her side, they hurled magical power through the skies, a winter mist followed by beams of silver pierced the heavens seemingly out of biblical legend. Their powers combined were more than just fearsome, it was undeniable proof that their synchronicity was greater than they ever imagined, a bright waltz blossomed against the devil herself, oh it was a lovely dance that their friends saw. The sounds of magical hellfire was their backdrop, their movements fluid and graceful as their moves complimented each other until the final strike. They were the perfect pair.
"Do you think we'll have peace?" Asked Penny hopefully. It had been mere hours after their victory, and they were in elated exuberant displays of human euphoria. Yet, it didn't feel entirely right with her, something was missing and she wasn't sure if it were to happen, probabilities suggested that there was a 60% chance that this was going to happen, but also a 40% chance that it was statistically unlikely.
"I dunno know." Replied Ruby listfully. "Maybe, we will. Maybe, we won't. It's up to us to keep it that way." She said determinedly, with a look that had been plunged in ferocious furnaces and tempered by ice-cold water. From a young naïve girl to a proud, strong woman who vanquished foes ten times her size. Now a new chapter was awaiting them, a bight new chapter that was long overdue.
As they stood side-by-side in the epicenter of great devastation. Their figures were beginning to meld as if they were Sakura blossoms in bloom, their direction and speed were perpendicular at 5 millimeters per second. Her cold metallic servos then felt her partner's warm hand brush alongside the length of her left arm. The indications were felt beyond her synthetic clothes as the psalm of her partner's hand had reached hers' in a display of romantic affection. They had moved their relationship along smoothly over the last few years, something more than friends and less than lovers, all it took was just one push.
To Penny, she never understood the moment. They were standing upon their site of victory, so why did that necessitate such emotions within her partner? What came next was a bigger shock to her, as warm human lips were pressed upon her own. Sending a jolt through her receptors, internal logs would later show that a few digital pathways had been fried from this overload of emotions.
"That…was"
"Long overdue" Smirked her new lover as she held her metallic frame close to her own flesh. Reflected in her silver eyes were a bright pair of emeralds, lenses shifting emulating the dilation of pupils from the presence of a lighthouse. Her hero was her lighthouse, guiding her to safe and warm shores under turbulent summer typhoons.
They left the battlefield that day hold each other's hand, her left and her right but all the same entity. One was the beating heart and the other her shell, each completed each other as a billowing red cloak blossomed bright crimson petals around them as they set forth towards new horizons, together. The mix of red and green stood in anticipation of their new lives, together. The apocalypse could occur via supernova, their world could burn in a great deluge and as long as they had each other, indomitable.
The first stop was to go home, for it had been many years since they had seen their fathers. A short jaunt to the isle of Patch was a warm and welcome rest as they were showered with love and admiration as heroes, their little bedtime stories had turned real, from a simple dream that they had both shared, it was now a reality that they were living. There was even talk amongst the people of the isle to build a statue of the great hero, yes that was the title that the denizens of the island had decided to call her: "The Great Hero" while certainly not imaginative by any stretch of the way, it was going to be put into action soon before the new Summer in a poetic sense. Its pedestal was to be made in the shape of a rose, its petals splitting off to reveal her figure and image made of the finest Rubedo, its reddish pink sheen would surely liven the world. Children would look up and celebrate its presence, oh sure it was going to be beautiful cheered Penny.
An old man sat there dutifully brushing the fall leaves on his front porch, his brow thickened, and his hips waned, what were once proud golden locks of hair were ruined by grey strands, but he still stood proud and tall as his youngest returned victorious and wiser. Both were remorseful at the time they had lost, and so many apologetics passed on between them as they were joyous and furious. It was human in every sense of the way, how their anger overtook their shock, how their joy overtook their anger and another emotion took over another, the interaction between child and parent lasted for 12 minutes and 47 seconds, but in that brief amount of time, all the hair-stroking and hugging was a human moment.
A smoking gun followed.
It was a speedy voyage to the north as word had arrived of one's old age had led to an ailing heart. Pietro, Penny's father was seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and the two lovers took the next flight northbound at its most expedient, they went as one with both heads resting on top of each other in tranquillity, whilst their metal bird soared to new speeds post-haste. Not even the aurora's that danced in their peripheries could lighten the mood as their thoughts now lay on an old man in poor health, every second pass onto more insecurity.
"We'll make it, I'm sure of it." There was such confidence within her statement as if she were omnipotent herself. The twine of trust within their words made their love strong.
When they arrived at their second destination, it was too late. The old man had passed in his sleep and dear old Gepetto was no more, reduced into a memory and a name. Pneumonia had came to him several nights ago, he had been spending his time with those less fortunate, and the disease had spread among the denizens there. His ailing hands had touched many, but the one hand that would have saved him was nowhere in his reach. By the time their flight had arrived on the snowy ground, leaving a small imprint with the glacial landscape, it had been too late, by 3 hours and 17 minutes late to be precise.
When they arrived into the tent where his body was held, it was a solemn moment for both. An aged man was now resting before them and his body had been shriveled from the cold that he had faced, here was a man, who had lived to the ripe old age of 89 and at his last moments had passed on without even catching one last glimpse of his daughter.
"Oh sweetie, it's going to be alright" Sobbed Ruby, holding her in a trance-like embrace, it was all she had done in the last half-hour or so. Her hands moving repetitively up and down ruffling her White blouse. Their trust bending slightly.
Between the two of them, one cried tears, small tears not in a dignified manner if there ever was one, small tears brushing upon a white blouse that left little imprints shaped like expanding cat paws. While the other stood still, her eyes having never been programmed to cry were incapable of such actions, she tried to of course, she wasn't one to give up, of course, her lips trembled and her hands tensed as part of a pre-determined response, but for all her might she just couldn't cry, not one drop of water or fluid crept from her eyes. If she could cry, she would flood rivers, she would create a deluge for forty days and forty nights, but alas she could not.
The love for her own creator, or 'daddy' as she would say in their more intimate moments was measurable. If N was the value representing the level of, admiration, attraction, devotion, and respect she was at a respectable 87 out of 100, but that was still reliant on formulaic integers to reach such a conclusion, to her love for one's father was quantifiable and measurable, and now that number was leading to all sorts of data. Her optical sensors saw that his life signs had reached a definite zero, now that 87 was directed at a corpse and she wondered if that number was going to drop. Now that he had deceased would the number drop or rise?
And then, they both knew. It was going to be another day that they would be waiting for.
With that, they grew closer and more intimate, as if the death had awakened something in both their minds. Time was short and fleeting in their line of work and they had to make the most of it, one was mortal and the other was not. It was a simple calculus really; it was evidently clear that fate was acting against them and they were going to spite her hence.
They held hands as they strolled down quaint little parks, skipping along down Bayview Avenue whilst enjoying nice summer treats, occasionally sneaking a bite of the other's cone. As Fall rolled around, they dressed in nice matching sweaters and carried picnic baskets whilst a nice checkered blanket sprawled out beneath them and they sipped warm tea whilst watching the leaves of the Forever Fall forest fall in a nice shade of crimson that bloodied the land. At Winter, they curled up in blanket forts that rivaled ones made of stone and watched the stars pass them by, oh fluffy pillow walls built by their hands kept them as temperate as Borsch soup.
Not one second was spent apart, now that was not to say they spent their youthful days in hedonistic pleasure whilst the world droned on. For all the good they had done in years prior, the world was still as turbulent as ever and so they had set forth to do good.
They brought peace to villages wrought with bandits, delivered aid to grief-stricken refugee camps and lift others to equality. Their name became renowned, and the tired, the poor, and the huddled masses yearning to breathe free would look up and see their salvation arrive in a blossom of Rose petals and green fire breathing new light into their bleak world. The Winter maiden and her loyal soldier would be household names as news channels would report proudly on the six o'clock news that new strides were being done by them, as they secured regional peace or provided water security to drought-stricken villages.
"Oh, bless the stars, thank you, both of you" They heard the same grateful phrases almost each time they provided for the less fortunate. It was mostly the power of the Winter maiden that had done most of the work for them, as the magical power bestowed to them gave them the power to create water out of thin air or cool the temper of summer to allow for more fruitful harvests.
The love that they had for each other was shared for the whole world, as they worked till the days turned into nights. As the stars formed a new canvas, the two rested on a soft bed and slept till they did more. On warm spring nights, with the backdrop of the world, they would discuss new plans on how to bring forth new
And this went on for many, many, many weeks. Then, many, many, many months and so on and so forth until the weeks turned into years.
She aged, her little pink bow had faded in colour and it's metallic interior was beginning to show ever slightly. Her clothes had remained the same and changed as well, the colors had changed over the years, she once put on a bright pink dress that clashed with cerulean skies, but oh did she love the color and its pinkness, but whenever she turned her neck to her 3 O'clock direction she would see a whirl of fading red.
To her, each second was more than just a second, as a mechanical being each second was both an eternity and so so fleeting. In one second she could take in information that the average person would take half a minute to process and within that time she could see spectrums that were naked to the human eye, ballistics from whence the bullet came, her world was alien to all but her. Not even her wife knew what she saw everyday, oh dear sweet Ruby was so understanding, but how could she know what she experienced.
Metal bones were similar to human cartilage, but when it came to the other aspects it was a gap of heavenly and earthly proportions. Their meals were only done with one person spinning a fork towards a swirl of cream-covered Spaghetti, whilst the other sat opposite only capable of watching the meal instead of partaking in the event. They seldom went out to eat, the curious glances and stares made already awkward meals for them even more peculiar. On their third outing, they had decided to go out and eat at a gentle family restaurant. The server bought the soup of the day followed by a Caesar salad, and the main dish in the form of a nice Risotto, a nice meal for one.
"How's the soup?"
"It's nice, I like your…" Her voice trailed off and they giggled at the situation, it was comical to be sure, from an outsider's point of view it might have looked like they were being economical, or perhaps it was some form of lovers spat, but no. It was a physical incapability that was impossible to rectify. Of course, the humour of the situation was only laughable for the first few times, as the years went by the frequency as to when they went out to eat decreased as well. The joke had lost its allure and the reality had sunk in.
A robot like her didn't even need homeostasis to function, contrary to her partner's wishes she never truly fell asleep, all she did was present the illusion of it. When the lights in their petal scented room went out she would turn into a chameleon, as her eyelids covered her optics and her world went pitch black. While Ruby tossed and turned like a Summer typhoon, grappling for control of the bedsheets, and while turbulence happened beside her, the same winds were blowing with her circuitry as she could still feel her other sensors function. Her auditory sensors still registered the tingling of their wind chimes or the cricket's croak during summer. All sleep was to her was the deactivation of one sensor, whilst the world went on.
10 hours afterwards, domestic bliss blossomed under the sounds of a Giacchino piece every morning, as Ruby would wake up first. Her elbow leaving an impact upon their Sealy, and her dry lips pressed upon tepid plastic. Green eyes would turn on and look at her, Penny never blushed willingly, another unknown subroutine that was designed to make her more human, but a small red rash appeared over her cheeks, it's infectiousness influenced her wife as well. The shyness of the two maidens was the backbone of their tender flower, it's stem delivering nutrients to the blossom in the form of the morning kiss.
The two would enter the bathroom next, dental hygiene being the concern for one of them as the other never ate or even had dental features to begin with. Mint-flavoured Colgate rubbed through Ruby's oral cavity, and one forward-facing look would be the reflection of her lovely wife in the mirror, standing behind her brushing her hair gently. Subconsciously, it felt like having a servant, but that unease went away after the third month of co-habitation. After all, what else was there for Penny to do, she never ate and a toothbrush would only be detrimental to her physiology. So she would help straighten out her messy bed hair every morning, and pick up a quaint little pink hairbrush and tenderly curtail any blemishes. And of course, after rinsing her mouth, wet lips pressed down on plastic again, sending jolts of electricity through both their minds as they found the shock of the morning glow flow through their clean bodies.
Breakfast was for one, but it was a less awkward affair than eating out. Penny was the master chef for their abode, as she placed thin slices of bacon and scrambled eggs on a skillet, she would once again be befuddled by a tap on her right shoulder, and ambushed on her left cheek. "That's for cooking breakfast" Explained Ruby warmly, before interconnecting her lips with hers again, pressing her pajamas against her oiled apron.
"I do this every day" Reminded Penny, with a small smile.
"And, that why I do this every day too." Retorted her partner, with a smile brimming to the top, like a bottle of champagne that was ready to burst with warm foamy affection.
Depending on the day, Ruby would walk out first sometimes, but that would mean leaving her dutiful lover behind, and the thought of that was unfathomable. The idea that she would have to leave the one that she loved the most behind sounded near torture-like, she would rather walk through the hot burning coals of Mt. Helene or face the demonic hordes of mythical past or suffer a traumatic head injury, than walk out of the door to work. Every blinking second that she would leave her wife was unfathomable, not being able to see her, all due to a little inconvenience?
Eventually, she would walk out the door, but not before snagging another kiss for propriety's sake.
Of course, like routine, she would willingly forget to bring something. Sometimes, it would be her car keys, her lunch, or her scroll, and she would have to pay for her painstaking mistake in a disproportionate manner…by having to walk back home.
Penny, would open the door on her arrival, and yes…another kiss.
But despite such a loving routine, the physical affections hid the cold robotic statement that Penny Polendina didn't love her wife. Now that was not to say that she held hatred or malice or anything primal towards her own wife, but she didn't love her in the same manner that humans typically would, her heart didn't skip beats as if it were a game of Hopscotch nor did she scream in frustration when she left a mess in their sink. No, if she had to explain her love for her wife it would be represented with a numerical value, where 0 was the lowest and 100 being the highest. It was a full 100, based on the given facial expressions that her wife had when she looked at her, or a particular smile that was based on the axis to which her jaw muscles had pivoted. Her love has based on mathematics and not emotions, the mathematics led to mimicry of said base human instincts. Yet, she still judged herself for such deceit and told her wife so.
The heart of her wife was too strong, too proud, and too stubborn, and with every beating moment, she loved Penny more and more.
This was one point of contention between the two married lovebirds, was what they had real? Her wife argued that she had a soul, that she was real to her. And, she told her so with such reassuring confidence that rivaled lions on the great prairies, she would say with this bright silvery glimmer in her eyes that spoke as if she were a great prophet: "Oh my dear, you are real to me and not even yourself could say otherwise." Then, she would grab hold of her own synthetic hands and wouldn't release her grip until she said "Yes" or "Sure" and she always said one or the other and never anything else, perhaps it was some pre-programmed subroutine that made it difficult for her to inflict emotional pain on others or perhaps it was the validity of her wife's argument that made her go along with it, or perhaps the twine of trust had bent over the years. The doubt and fears that presented themselves as the biggest query in her life never truly went away, as if it were a cancer that she was born with.
A memorable event was on the thirty-second year of their marriage, while her wife's hands were being scuffed by liquid detergent at her own insistence. The other was giving each other some much-needed distance, yes, while they were married it was inevitable for them to have conflict, apparently, it was the norm. So, on that night, the much more de-escalating measure that she elected to take was to go outside and wait for her to come around, although from the violent waterboarding that their dinner plates were facing, it was likely that it would perhaps be a morning apology. Ruby called it anxiety, but robots don't get anxiety, she wasn't designed to feel such an illness.
Of course, her wife had always managed to surprise her, such as on their 4th anniversary, she had brought them tickets to see a game at the Rodgers Centre, it was the Blue Jays playing and she loved the analytics involved at the game, the rush of the crowd as metal bat clashed ball. "I'm willing to bet, that you are just as human, as I am a machine"
"What?" Asked Penny confused at the statement, it's lack of validity, cogency, or soundness. It seemed like another thing that she had said in the spur of the moment, oftentimes it would be inspiring, but right now it just seemed confusing.
"Think about it, a machine's wiring is just blood veins; a processor is just the brain; a power source is just a heart" She explained, the argument now had some substance but it was still ignoring the other aspects of one's humanity. As any other philosopher religious or otherwise would argue that one key to humanity was the essence of it.
"But, a person is more than just the physical." Retorted Penny in a manner that was near irate, it was a more neutral tone, evidently displaying a level of boredom due to the repetitive nature of their discussion.
"Yeah, I know. It's also the emotions and the feelings and all that good stuff. So here's my bet if the number representing how much you love me changes after I'm gone, it's concrete proof that you're just as human as me."
"You're operating under the assumption that the passing of yourself would have the possibility of influencing my perception of you post-mortem, based on the idea that humans are influenced in the same manner after the loss of a loved one."
Her eyes popped open at the breakdown. "Yeah, sure let's go with that. Now help me with the dishes."
"Sure"
Then a small speck of soapy water flew in her direction, leading to a small white cloud on her nose. Evidently, the mischief was a sign of her vindictiveness and cruelty.
It always found it's way into remission in her processors, it was the eternal question. Now the question didn't matter, it was going to be over soon.
Initial symptoms came in the form with her back started waning, she could tell from her posture, with the slow shift over the years from a slight bend of 5 degrees when she reached sixty-six until fully bending almost an additional 11 degrees downward by the time she was seventy-one. It was her nasty habit of sitting cross-legged on their oak chairs and inclination to use her scroll while in bed. "Oh I'll be fine" bemoaned her wife lying down on her bed with her head buried into a whimsical app, while the chime of defeated enemies drowned out her advice. Now it was catching up to her. She never chastised her for it though, it would've likely been deemed repetitive and their marriage had a lifetime of such things, it must have gotten boring by the umpteenth time to be scolded by a never-changing 20-year old girl for all of it.
Yes, her appearance had never changed. The standard human female body went through different stages of maturity before reaching the final stage of death, but for Penny Polendina she had already faced death once while ignoring the other stages. She, Ruby, would often jokingly make asinine jokes about their appearance how it would look like she was a 40-year old dating a 20-something teenager, the implications were comedic but it was dark humor at best.
What came next was shocking but went through both of them as if it were a phantom bullet, a death blow that passed through their bodies in such an unfelt way. Dementia. She had seen the signs of it, the occasional forgetfulness as to where she had kept her bullets and the occasional slip up as to forgetting how many days there were left until her own birthday; but felt it necessary to confer with a professional and have him deal the killing blow. There was violence in the way of words, as protest and fears rattled an elderly humanitarian over the prospects of losing her most fondest memories, the short-term solution for her was to look over their photos lovingly every day, staring them as if to spot blemishes within their pixels.
They fought the battle, with doctors and friends and the love of the world. Letters poured in from all four corners of the world, little Kem from Vacuo now all grown up and a pharmacist, they saved him from a collapsing mine almost 30 years ago. Hong Mei from Mantle, she and her family would have frozen to death almost 50 years ago, and now she was about to have her first grandchild as well. Sometimes the letters and love seemed to be more detrimental as the war went on, it started new wounds as her wife would read them and have no recollection of the events, she ask that: "Who was this?" and stare on at them with such bewilderment and confusion like a fish out of water flailing around desperately for an answer to her predicament.
"Don't you remember? We went there almost 30 years ago" She would state factually to the blank wall.
"Did we…? I could've sworn we never went there?" She would realise that there was a disconnect between her metaphysical understanding of her past and reality itself, so now her blank face looked at her wife's face hoping for a sudden change in her demeanour indicating a prank or otherwise. The patient would think about what had been given to her just then, and ponder, and ponder and ponder beyond
Eventually, she lost her way around town, finding her walk along the Patch coast as if it were where she belonged. The nursing home had alerted her, that she had left their care, and she blazed past the sky like a green arrow. It was a fortuitous flight, as Ruby trudged along down the grass cliffside with her, the red cloak made her easy to spot. In a way, it was foreboding for what was to come, she longed to be gone to aether carried by the currents that moved its people's together. Her hunched form was distinct to her as she strolled down the path.
If there ever was any comfort to this situation, she never forgot the face of her wife, others thought of it as romantic and passers-by would comment that this was the power of love or something comforting stating expertly that this was a good sign. However, a much more likely hypothesis was that it was due to her ageless nature that her wife never forgot her. If she had aged along with her, it was likely that she would have forgotten her visage like a mirage long ago, but due to her features never changing, her wife's memory of her was static, like the ocean that flowed around them only changing in warmth, she too never changed her shape.
No fear was present in her optics, only probabilities and the emotions that came along projected upon her synthetic skin. Yes, there was a 73.3% chance that she was going to forget the location of their home within the next 3 weeks, but she chose to look at the 26.6% chance that she would be capable of navigating herself back to her arms, she chose to look at the much more minuscule chance with favor, but the end result was a resounding disappointment. She let out a sigh, or the robotic equivalent of a 'sigh', while the conventional sign of defeat within humans was in the form of a glottal fricative, a machine like her could only make an 'h' sound, not the glottal sound but just an 'h'.
Then it was all over.
What came next was gruelling, with only one of them left, it was an empty abode now, not one living thing stirred or slumbered within the house. The fridge and all the leftovers were tossed in a bin, and awaited collection.
She never forgot her, a sentiment that was shared between the two. Ruby Rose was scattered to the winds along the Patch coast as the Sun stood tall on a Summer afternoon. There was some sadness in her soul, as well as a bright flame ablaze from the hope that she had given her with her passing.
She would then set out into the world again, never stopping, never forgetting her wife's last words: "I love you…"
Then, it seemed so clear to her, as if the fog had been lifted from the veil. All from that sill little debt. The number had now risen by 9 points, it had dropped by 7 points and it had flown across her mind, the rush of change that came over her processor was so exhilarating. This change hadn't even occurred when her father had died years ago, but now this flux was what she had longed for. What had plagued her for the last few decades seemed to fade away. The worries over her humanity now seemed to fade away as if it were only a schoolgirl dream, the words imparted to her that night rushed back to her due to her impeccable memory. Proof of her own essence was present within her.
All from a silly bet.
I hope that this story would have left the emotional impact that I intended for.
Please, leave a comment or a Fav. It has been a while since I wrote any RWBY fanfiction as well as the first-time writing Nuts and Dolts. So I hope I did the ship justice and portrayed it in a manner that was heart-warming as well as emotionally touching.
Aside from the fact that this was a story written with the idea of exploring a Lesbian relationship, it was also written with the idea of exploring the dichotomy of having an ageless robotic lover.
One of the inspirations for this story was Isaac Asimov's "I, Robot" specifically the first story "Robbie" where a little girl is protected by her caretaker robot. The idea that a human girl would look at a robotic figure and only see the human within, rather than the machine and love it regardless.
So please leave a Fav if you like it, as well as a review as it would help greatly on how I could improve.