Futuristic cyborg romance {1x1}

[demonology]

{I'm terrible at titles so apologies tehehe}

Beauxchamp Keaton​

With his alarm ringing, Beaux sat up in bed. He called out, "Shut it," and immediately the noise stopped. Laying back down, he decided to get a few more moments of shut-eye, until his mom walked in.

Layla narrowed her eyes. "Beaux, we have things to do today. We're hiring a new maid."

He groaned. Why does he have to be there? It wasn't like his opinion mattered. Still, Beauxchamp knew his mother wanted him there. Rubbing his eyes, he got up and put his shirt on. Looking Layla in the eyes, he finally said, "I'm up." He was curt, almost rude, but he tried to soften his voice so that he wouldn't hurt his mom's feelings.

She glared at him, though only for a moment. "Good. Now get presetable and meet me downstairs. We have quite a few potentials to sift through." With that, Layla give him a small wink and added, "I also had Montague make you a latte, so chop chop."

His mom passed a small smile before shutting the door behind her. Beaux had perked up at the thought of coffee, but it still wasn't enough to keep him from looking at his phone. His friends were all waking up about now, and they were posting their every little thought on Twitter. Some things were funny, some weren't.

Finally, after ten minutes of internet time, he got up. Shedding his fluffy PJ pants, he got into the shower, fiddling with the temperature until he was comfortable. Beauxchamp found a nice pair of jeans. There was a rip in the knee, and he knew his mother would hate it. She didn't like that he stopped wearing khakis or dress pants, especially when going through professional meetings like today. However, Layla let jeans pass her ridicule, provided that they were in good condition. Unfortunately, he'd made a rip in these while rollerblading. Beaux shrugged and continued getting dressed. He was sure she'd notice the Black Sabbath shirt before the jeans.

Tucking his hair behind his ears (for once), he opened the door and made his way downstairs. Entering the drawing-room, he found his mother sitting in her comfy chair that had flowers printed on it. She was eating a scone and drinking tea. Meanwhile, next to his seat on his end table there was his latte and some toast waiting for him.

Plopping into the floral chair, he rested back and closed his eyes for a moment. Beaux chewed on some toast and washed it down with his coffee, which tasted faintly of vanilla. "So who are we seeing first?"

Layla's voice peaked up. "Well, since you took so long, I've already had the liberty of seeing two of the potentials."

Opening his eyes, Beauxchamp studied his mother out of the corner of his eye. "Fine. Who are we seeing next?"

Layla took a sip of her tea. She ignored her son for a moment, looking a Montague, whose silver hand peaked through his pocket. He stood right beside his mom. "Montague, please go fetch," she paused to look at her list. "Gabrielle Durand."

Ophelia Somm​

Ophelia pulled her hoodie down further, compressing her bouncy curls. It was imperative she escaped notice. People only knew her name, not her face. She intended to keep it that way. From the ally, she could observe the sales attendants of the Apple Store. Half of them were cyborgs, meaning half of them wore bracelets that attached them to the property so they couldn't escape. Times had changed since she was chained to the Quik N Go. Now, everything was high-tech. It certainly complicated the process. She used to be able to take chain cutters to the cyborgs' chains. Now, Ophie and her team had to work out a whole process. It took ten minutes to undo the programming of the bracelets, which gave the cyborgs a shock if they left more than ten feet from the property. After fifty feet, the shocks became lethal.

The only way it was possible for her team to free the attendants from their indentured servitude, was to get someone on the inside. The signal box was located in the store, near the back. The dumbasses left it out in the open, assuming we're too dumb to figure it out, she thought to herself. Ophelia couldn't exactly go in there herself, so she stood watch on the outside, her quiver sitting on her back. The irony wasn't lost on her. She was standing watch with an old-timey weapon when the mission required Simon, their best techie, to go inside and turn off the signal that caused the shock system to engage. The world had changed, and her body was proof of it. Yet, it was easier to carry a bow and arrow than it was to carry around an automatic weapon. Not only was it easier to conceal, but the government didn't have trackers put on her homemade bow.

Artie walked into the store, given her alterations were on her midriff, allowing her to conceal her status as a cyborg. She was the distraction, and she fit her role with perfection. She asked got the attention of the two human attendants at the front, who were both sitting and looking at their phones. It was easy, given how distracted they already were. Simon worked quickly at the back, and he was almost successful. Until an alarm started ringing inside.

It was screaming, and it caught the attention of the humans. One of them went to lunge at Simon, who quickly dropped his things and pulled out a knife. It was small though, and she knew how dull it actually was. The human stopped, putting his hands up and making motions in an attempt to calm Simon down. However, the other human wasn't as kind. She was yelling, moving to attack Simon. Artie didn't allow this, knocking her out with the butt of her pistol. It was the only gun they had that was safe from government tracking. It occurred to Ophie that if Artie lost it, they'd only have manual weapons that only half-worked these days. Or home-made one like her bow.

She notched an arrow, preparing to have to put herself out in the open. It was the first time that Ophelia and her gang had ever run into this kind of problem. It was only worsened by the police siren in the distance.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck..." she mumbled, standing up and readying to fight for her friends' lives.

 

[justalittlepositivitea]

Gabrielle woke to the sound of a horn blaring right outside her window. She groaned and covered her head with her pillow. Needless to say, she was not a morning person. She dragged herself out of her bed, stumbling across her tiny, cramped, two-room apartment to the island in the "kitchen", if you could call it that. It consisted of a stove, sink, a small fridge, and three cupboards in the island.

Her apartment might have been small, but it was all she could afford. After losing her job, though, she might not be able to pay the rent much longer. Her landlords were stretching their generosity just letting her rent an apartment; they wouldn't hesitate to evict her if she couldn't pay.

That just reminded her, she needed to get ready for her next job interview. She ate a hurried breakfast, then put on a grey cardigan over a plain white button-up shirt with a denim maxi skirt. She choose a long sleeved top, even if it was the middle of summer, to hide her arms. She couldn't do anything about her hands and neck, though. She wasn't embarrassed of being a cyborg, but the less people noticed, the better. She tried to stay under the radar as much as she could when she went out.

She still remembered the accident that had taken her parents' lives and came close to taking hers too vividly. The screech of the brakes, the earthshattering crunch, and the horrible pain of the metal of the car crushing her legs and torso, making it almost impossible to breathe were imprinted on her mind in terrifying detail. The doctors had seen nothing to save her exept replacing her body with a robotic one. It had been an extremely delicate process, in which she had almost died multiple times, but she had managed to pull through.

She drew herself out of her memories and left her apartment. It wouldn't do if she was late. It took her almost an hour to walk to the address she had been given, but she enjoyed the time outside. As she arrived at the house, she took a deep breath and raised her hand to the doorbell. She heard a faint chime through the house, and a minute later, the door was opened and she was lead into a sort of waiting room. There was one other cyborg in the room, and from the murmur of voices she could hear, another was having an interview at the minute.

She sat down to wait her turn, nervously drumming her fingers on the arm of the chair. She really needed this job. She waited while the other cyborg was called into the adjoining room, then after about fifteen minutes, her name was called. She adjusted her clothes with fidgety hands, then stepped into the room to meet the person whom she hoped would be her future boss.

*****​

Paperwork. Edmund sighed. He did not enjoy paperwork. He liked the action, the thrill of the chase. He was just about to succumb to the monotony of his paperwork when the siren blared through the building, alerting the cops to a tripped alarm somewhere in their area. Edmund grinned. This was the perfect opportunity to weasle his way out of the boring task of signing form after form.

He jumped up from his desk, trying not to appear too excited. He ran out of his office, and saw his best friend Sebastian was already in the cop car waiting for him.

"You're fast, man," said Edmund, sliding into the passenger seat before they peeled out of the station.

They had been getting frequent calls about a small band of cyborgs who were terrorizing businesses and freeing the workers. Edmund had made it somewhat of a personal mission to catch the leader of the band.

The pain on his mother's face after that scum had attacked and robbed her was still too fresh in his memory. Cyborgs were just rotten sneaks, and this uprising was only reinforcing his opinion of them.

His face hardened as they neared the scene of the action. He fingered the pistol under his jacket. He would catch those rebels this time.