Three days earlier…
If there was one thing Joliet Jousset didn't expect to go wrong, it was to go from living a life of luxury, to being snatched off the street by a group of thugs. All she wanted was to slip away and be able to go somewhere without her father watching her every move. For the umpteenth time, within the years she'd discovered her father's intentions, Joliet would put her robotics skills to good use by removing the ocular camera in her right eye. The other times she'd done it, it was rather simple, but for some reason, it was different now. The engineers at Stroheim Robotics, Inc. must have gone to great lengths to insert it another way during her last upgrade, because her right eye was void of any cameras. Same for the left. Her father couldn't have removed it, that was highly unlikely. Was it somewhere else? But then how would it work? Thinking about it much more clearly, she realized that Stroheim must have inserted it into her positronic brain. Her gut seemed to confirm this.
Was it too much to ask for a bit of privacy? It was times like this that bore a heavy burden on her heart (or lack thereof). For hundreds of years, she'd lived as a prisoner in her own home, the Imperial Edifice. By the Emperor's orders, no one outside the capital was to learn the truth that a princess of France did in fact exist; and had existed long before their birth. Joliet, on the other hand, knew exactly what Skid Row was all about. A tumor rife with violence, destruction, injustice, and murder. She'd sooner remain imprisoned behind her invisible bars for all of eternity than spare a second thinking about stepping foot out there. And why would she? The capital had gourmet restaurants, five-star hotels, the Louvre, and who could forget that crumbling eye-sore of a ruin overshadowed by the towering metropolis around it? The Eiffel tower.
Joliet loved the capital. Not having an Ultravox store to buy ten different pairs of shoes from would be pure agony. Not living in a civilized and meticulous city with a benevolent law system keeping order was simply unimaginable. Thankfully, she could come and go from the Edifice freely. The Emperor almost never sent his cybernetic guards to shadow her, to which someone would find ironic. However, it made perfect sense. Joliet was far more capable of defending herself than people thought. By means of an entity that had, long since the day of her birth, aided her on multiple occasions. Driven by an unrelenting need to clear her head, Joliet left the confines of her home, and decided to take the train to another part of town. Which was all well and good... if she hadn't boarded the wrong train.
The train to Skid Row.
One would think that by receiving confused stares upon her exit, it was enough to give her the idea she didn't belong there. But Joliet kept her nose high as she moved through the train station with poise. Occasionally spotted graffiti decorated the walls around her. She was like a fully bloomed rosebush in a patch of dandelions and milkweed, catching the eye of loiterers near columns, frumpy passerby, and worst of all members of Geil's gang, Motorhead. A prime example for why many denizens from the capital seldom set foot on their side of town. Her dress was black as midnight with four rows of real diamonds bordering the collar. It was sleeveless, and the hem came up above the knee. She toted a small, matching purse that dangled by a long, thin strap from shoulder to hip. If things had gone according to plan, she'd be back home in a few hours, probably inquiring Stroheim about a way to remove the camera from her brain.
Alas… the threads of fate had something else in mind for Joliet.
She heard a man whistle at her as she walked by, unloading a lengthy amount of discomfort. To top it all off, his cronies were encouraging him. "Hey, sweetheart, you lookin' for a tour of the neighborhood?"
Joliet hurried past, keeping her eyes in front of her. "Leave me alone."
His shoes clacked on the platform, gaining on her. "Aww, come on, don't be like that." She couldn't believe how pushy he was being. To make matters more annoying, he reached out and took hold of her arm. "Whaddaya say we go someplace and get well acquainted, huh?" The nerve of this swine! She yanked her arm free and shot him a look of contempt.
"Cochon! As the emperor's daughter, I could have you thrown in prison for the remainder of your miserable life for simply touching me. If you have any ounce of self-respect, you'll keep your greasy hands off me in the future, lest I have them removed." Joliet's long, honey brown hair made a swishing motion as she snapped her head forward and continued on her merry way.
"Tch… bitch. You weren't my type anyway."
Why? Why did she have to out herself like that? In the heat of the moment, it seemed like a good idea to brandish her title as a weapon, but now she wasn't so sure that was the wisest move. In fact it's what led to her capture. It always worked on the occasional weirdo, but this was Skid Row — the outer section of the city — and nothing there worked the way people from the capital expected. Motorhead's side of town had eyes and ears everywhere, and the train station was no exception.
Geil's thugs had followed her out of the station and cornered her down the street, where a sudden downpour pelted the asphalt. Thunder boomed into the alley as two of the three criminals pinned her against a wall, spewing vile remarks about being lost, something something too pretty to be on that side of town, yada yada — garbage.
"Got the currents." One of them was crouched down plundering through her purse, when he whipped out a square drive between his index finger and thumb. "Bet there's a shit ton of cash on this."
Joliet thrashed around, causing the rough hand clamped over her mouth to slide over her chin. "Take it!" she cried. The gangster's head snapped up. "I don't care what you spend it on, just take it and leave me alone!"
He stood up, curling his fingers around the drive. "Yeah, don't think that'll fly with the boss."
Taking out a rod from his jacket pocket, he pressed a button and released a baton. Sparks flickered around it, sending a wave of fear through Joliet's body. She struggled to get free from her oppressors, twisting her wrists in their grasp; pulling one way and thrashing another. Useless. The electric rod drawing nearer made her eyes go wide.
Instinctively, vines with heart-shaped leaves sprouted from her shoulders and arms. Lilac-white moonflowers began to blossom. And then… too late. Creating slack around her wrists, the two pinning her down stepped away quickly.
With little time to think, the rod sent a shockwave through Joliet's body. A scream stifled at the back of her throat. Her body tensed, creating an agonizing pain she'd never known before. The thug kept the rod mashed to her abdominal area, deriving as much pleasure in her torment as was possible. The color of her eyes flickered from seafoam green to pewter.
"The fuck are you doing?! screeched one of his accomplices. "That's enough, man!" The electric shocks freed her from the pain as the thug stepped away realizing he'd gone too far. Limply, Joliet collapsed to the asphalt, eyes devoid of life. The vibrant moonflowers wilted; their stems shriveled until they were a tawny shade, slowly draping over her body.
All in the alley fell silent, save for the thunder in the sky overhead and the rain hitting tin. Still, with consciousness wavering, Joliet heard mechanized voices in her inner ear, the mechanisms in her mind recording them for later context. They were arguing, accusatory of the man wielding the stun baton.
The panicked accomplice grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, spouting off vehemently. "Tell me you didn't just kill her…!"
"I, ah —"
"Fils de pute!" he kicked a nearby trash can, spilling its rotten contents into a puddle. "Sadistic piece of shit! I thought you were just gonna stun her, not kill her! Jackass! This isn't one of your little shit-shows where you torture animals! Shit. Shit! If she's really who she says she is, and Geil finds out —"
"He isn't going to find out." There was a fourth man leaning against the wall, unrattled. Collected, suave. Some of his more notable features were his shoulder-length, flaxen hair, his tattered, striped suit, and the neck piece covering his shoulders with a cross ornamenting the base of his neck. Claret stitching held the shoulder seams together, but did nothing for the torn sleeves of his suit. Pinned to the front of his outfit were theater masks, one expressing joy, and the other sorrow. His top hat had a sash that matched the stitches on his suit, with a fancy masquerade mask slipped around the hat and resting over the brim.
"Yeah? And what makes you so sure, Edguy?" the loudmouth Motorhead gangster said his name mockingly.
"For all he knows," Edguy said, taking a step out of the shadows, "we could've mugged any woman and got that money. You don't honestly believe that little claim about her being the Emperor's daughter, do you?" His voice was likened to honey; smooth and calming. "For all you know, she only said that to strike fear in that poor sod's heart."
There was a long pause. Rain water washed over the pavement from a drain pipe. "What do we do now?" one of the criminals asked.
"Simple," Edguy flashed a grin as he twirled a cane he'd stolen from the local pharmacy, "dispose of the body. The last place her family will come looking is our side of town. Also, if you're so inclined to make more money, I suggest you get rid of her belongings; shoes, clothing, everything. From what I gather, there are people here that would throw every current they have away if it means getting their grimy little hands on exclusive materials."
"Her jewelry, too?"
He rolled his eyes. "No, people objectively despise 24k diamond earrings… fucking idiot. Just shut up and get rid of her. I don't care how. Oh!" He stopped in his tracks, his back still turned. "Give me her U drive, will you? Wouldn't want to miss out on getting your cut, now would we?"
Exchanging glances, the gangsters complied and handed it over.
Consciousness waned, gradually drifting further and further from Joliet. Were it a string around her finger, she'd roll it around; feeling it slip away from her grasp a little at a time. And she wouldn't fight it. Not one bit. The sound of their voices coasted in and out, growing more incomprehensible. Although there were a few last phrases and words she made out.
…sit her up for me…
What's this on her neck, some kind of star tattoo?
These lines on her body…what are —
Holy shit…holy shit!
What?! What're you freaking out about now?
She's a...
What?! Goddamn, spit it out!
She's…! She's one of those fucking bots!
So this is what it feels like to die...it's calming somehow. Why couldn't this have happened to me sooner?
.
.
Tenmei Kakyoin was always in a perky mood. In spite of the world around him falling to pieces, he remained whole, seeking as well as creating joy around every bend. It's what made him so likeable by the other gang members of Quiet Riot. He was always willing to fix their contraptions when they broke down: motorcycles, computers, gaming systems, medical equipment, and so on. What would they do without him? The guy was clearly one for the ages when it came to mechanical know-how, and reigning champion when it came to video games, mind you.
Building and fixing machines was his passion, and something he looked forward to doing in the near future as a career. Getting his hands on more advanced tech than he was used to was the dream, but for the time being, he had to settle on acquiring scrap from the junkyard for his more defined works of art.
In the early morning hours, on the day of the shootout no less, Tenmei ambled at a moderately quick pace with the most carefree smile he could muster as he hummed out of tune. The morning sun radiated a warm glow on his vibrant, red hair and skin, painting the sky above him in hues of lilac, pink, and blue. He continued to sing breathily and drum his fingertips while he walked, as he stood on the subway platform waiting for his train, and even while he was riding to his destination. Most people didn't pay him any mind, but there were a few who did; giving him those kind of looks and thinking to themselves what is wrong with this kid?
On the far outskirts of Paris was a scrapyard overflowing with shabby appliances, rusty cars, and a fair bit of robotic instruments ranging from household servants to everyday utensils — most of which were a product of Stroheim Robotics, Inc. A company revered by the world as the first industry to produce and mass market androids to the everyday consumer willing to afford one. And by Skid Row's standards, nobody owned one of those.
Tenmei sifted through junk, reaching his arm blindly into a pile and pulling out something he thought would be useful. To his dismay, nothing he really needed, so he'd toss it over his shoulder and keep searching.
"Oooh!" He beamed, thinking he'd discovered something new. His smile drooped and brow furrowed at the trinket in his hand knowing good and damn well it wasn't what he wanted. "Meh, got a hundred of them back at the quarry."
FWIP
CRASH
"Come on, TenTen needs a 30B model transistor!" He stood up on the mountain of scrap and began to toss things aside with little regard for how the heavier equipment would tumble, knocking various metallic objects down with it. Had anyone gone with him, they'd do well to remember to keep their distance from Tenmei while he was working, lest they lose an eye. Or get buried in an avalanche of useless junk.
"Boring, boring, boring, boring, boring…stupid, stupid, stupid… urgh , I've got one of those already. Agh! This sucks, I'm checking another pile!"
This was beginning to seem like a wasted trip, though it wouldn't be the first time. He huffed and stormed through the junkyard in hot pursuit of that transistor. He was finding one if it killed him, dang it. "Okay!" he said loudly, stomping a foot to the dirt. "I didn't come out here just to leave empty handed. I'll stay here all day if I have to!"
All day. Was he so sure he wanted to do that? Mountainous piles of junk towering over him implied that he didn't. Tenmei frowned, slouching forward with his arms hanging limp. "Awww…mental note: invent something to make my excavations easier."
That was that. He puffed his chest out with a determined twinkle in his eye. He was going to find that transistor one way or another. Spelunking through garbage left and right, he once again came up empty. So, he checked another pile. Same results. Today just wasn't his day. Finding his excursion to be disappointing, he decided to cut his trip short and check just one last pile of scrap before departing back to the quarry. What a letdown. Funny how he always managed to find something he didn't need over and over, but when the time came that he did need it, it was the thing that was so difficult to find. He had a word for that: annoying.
Tenmei reached the top of the pile, sifting through scrap when something caught his eye. A dainty hand glistening in the morning sun. Huh? Aaahh, god! That's not a dead body, is it?! Reaching reluctantly to remove more scrap around it, he noted something peculiar about the hand. There was a very faint line leading from the wrist to somewhere under the garbage. What could that mean? Curious about his discovery, he proceeded to unearth the mysterious person. This he had to see.
His arm muscles grew weary of throwing heavy things down the scrap mountain, his back aching, and legs strained from the constant bending over he was doing. Tenmei arched his back, placing his hands above the hip. "It's no transistor," he said, "but I've got a good feeling about it!" Plundering this way and that, he was down to just one piece of scrap. Lifting it away, he dropped it immediately, throwing a hand over his mouth as he gasped. Then he realized he just dropped something on a person. "D'oh! Sorry." Again, he peeled back the junk, getting a second look.
A large headband was holding back the hair of a young woman who seemed so peaceful amidst the trash accumulated around her. Tenmei studied her for a moment, speechless. How did a woman get buried in a heap of odds-and-ends? "Hey, the line on her skin goes around her arm, chest, and face. Huh! That's…intriguing. I've never seen people like this before."
What was her story, he wondered. Getting an even closer look, a wave of astonishment hit him. He touched the line, finding that with enough force, he could peel it back. Tenmei grimaced, swiftly withdrawing his hand. "Holy cannoli, she's an android!" Wait. She was an android. "So…I didn't find a transistor, but I found an android. But they're usually disassembled by their makers according to what I read in Mechanical Engineering class. Throwing out a whole android goes strictly against the company's policy…because then a third party can get their hands on it and program it to do horrible things, from what I understand. Still…it would be pretty cool to have one of my own." He stroked his chin. "Hmm. Well, alright!" he cheered. "Let's do it!"
Tenmei glissaded down the heap to retrieve his backpack and carry it back up. He lugged it up, and brought it down on the scrap with a flump . After moving objects out from around Joliet's body, he wrapped his arms around her chest and strained, dragging her out the rest of the way. He felt her ankle snag on something and grunted as he continued to tug. "Aww, come on!" With a few solid yanks, Joliet's foot scraped hard against metal, getting a sharp rod jammed through the outer layer of skin. Tenmei screamed and started to barrel roll down the trashy slope. Joliet's body banged and clanged against hard objects before finalizing her fall with a slam on the dirt.
"Oww…" Tenmei groaned. He sat up, body aching and pained from the fall. "...you know, I could've just left my backpack down here, come to think of it. Huh… yeah. I did not think that through." He clambered back up the heap and grabbed his backpack. When he returned to Joliet's side, he froze. Eyelids were twitching on their own. Just slightly, but even the smallest hint of movement was enough to alert Tenmei to its condition. "Whoooa! It's… it's still functioning! No way!"
The glow of the sun shone on Joliet's vacant face and spasming eye functions. There was something hopeful about it all. Seeing an android clinging to what little bit of power it had left was something Tenmei had never bore witness to in his life. This moment would definitely be one for the books. He smiled, knowing he had the power to bring this automaton back to full operation. Illegal or not, what was the harm? He didn't see it any differently than reviving a person from near death.
"Well," he said, dropping his backpack to the dirt, "today's your lucky day." Kneeling to one knee, he opened the main compartment to his backpack. "Alright, Never Enough, time to do your thang!" Bit by bit, he crammed Joliet's body down into the sack. First, her leg disappeared. Then her other leg, and so on. Easing her head down into the main compartment, Joliet's entire being was swallowed and sealed up by a zipper.
As if the sack carried no weight at all, Tenmei tossed it over his shoulders and started out of the junkyard, proud of what he'd found that morning. "Wait til the guys get a load of this."
