[ IP ] Clockwork

`` What the hell? Is this bitch fucking clockwork?!'' 
 
 `` Clockwork?! Ca n't be, they outlawed those hundreds of fucking years ago!'' 
 
 `` I know, but listen man! Let me just... Hear that? Gears rattling! Hear it? I'm telling you, bitch is clockwork!'' 
 
 `` Ca n't hear shit, music's too fucking loud! Whatever, I do n't give a fuck. Grab her!'' 
 
 I felt two huge arms tighten around my midriff and lift me as easily as a feather. Even through my closed eyes I saw the head-pounding and spinning rainbow of lights. Music blared through the dozens of speakers in the club's ceiling. Tendrils of bile snaked up my throat; for an instant, I clenched my fists, but I let go just as quickly. Ca n't spoil the secret yet. 
 
 Soon enough, the pulsing lights faded out, replaced by a dim white light as my captors stooped through a doorway. The music no longer ripped into me, content to be merely loud. Maybe these guys were hired by my eardrums. Or liver. Or any still-biological part of my body, really. `` Being half cogs and wheels should n't be an excuse to get hammered every day'' - some philosopher said that. Somewhere. Probably. 
 
 We passed through another few rooms before he finally threw me on the ground. I groaned in pain: partly because ow, fuck you, but mostly so they wo n't hear the clank. `` Oh, bitch is awake already. Damn, must have practice getting roofied.'' I looked up, carefully making sure to open only my regular eye. Luckily, my other one was bruised ( whole other story ), so this was somewhat convincing. 
 
 Small room, bare white walls and ceiling, a few empty cardboard boxes. I really should explore the club one day so I know all these random rooms. Two polo-shirt-wearing goons leered down at me: one scrawny like a rat, with a parrot's smug grin and a battalion of knives dangling from a spaghetti of belts, the other a muscle-bound buzz-cutted hunk. Both had neon green serial numbers running down their arms. Cyborgs?! What were they doing in this part of the world?! 
 
 `` Hey babe. Wakey wakey.'' Little guy spoke up first, his voice nasally and sharp, almost caricaturally so. 
 
 `` Where... What's going on...'' Sound traumatized, frightened. I'm just a regular girl. I still feel negative emotions besides various degrees of irritation. 
 
 `` We're raping you, bitch. Which one of us do you want first? I'm warning you, I'm bigger.'' Buzz cut's turn to speak up. Whoever programmed these guys was a real asshole. Maybe they added in a few too many zeroes in the sadism boxes, or maybe these were experimental bots, or maybe they were filming this shit. The room was pretty bright... 
 
 `` You're... you're raping me? But... are n't you... you know?'' I could slowly feel the gears starting to whir faster inside of me, my magic starting to wake up. Just stall. Voice barely loud enough to hear, slow breaths. They would n't want to fuck a puppet. 
 
 `` Cyborgs? Yeah, we are. So? We ca n't have a little fun? Why do you humans get all the sex while we just run around killing people?'' 
 
 `` I still think she's clockwork, Mitch. I'm sure I heard gears.'' 
 
 `` Yeah, and I'm sure she's also got a revolver attachment in her arm. Look, the tech's been illegal for so fucking long, there's no way she'd be this age. Besides, look, someone's already got to her. Black eye, long scratches on arm, ankle swollen, skin discolored... You think a fucking gearhead would let someone fuck them up like that?'' 
 
 `` My ears are in perfect condition. I know what I heard.'' 
 
 `` Yeah, OK, whatever. Look, girl, you gon na make up your mind, or are we gon na have to choose for ya? Jake may be bigger, but I'm rougher, so keep that in mind.'' 
 
 `` Choose... choose what?'' Now it was just a matter of conveniences. Fans were beginning to turn, little clockwork repair men released into the bloodstream, additional iron being pumped into bones... Would n't matter in the fight, but I'd be able to repair and get back to partying quicker. Of course, all that shit had n't mattered against the faerie that I `` let fuck me up'' or whatever. Fucking... no, whole other story. I beat her in the end, so it does n't even matter. 
 
 `` Oh my god, you're not gon na waste my time like this!'' Mitch leaned down, whipping out a knife and cutting off my skirt with a deft flick of his wrist. What a gentleman. Efficient and rich - since he could afford to buy so many new skirts for the ladies he had consensual BDSM intercourse with. Or something. Glass half-full, right? 
 
 `` Let's find out if you're really a metal-man, shall we?'' he smirked, plunging his knife into me knee, and recoiling when the bronze underneath was exposed. 
 
 `` Metalwoman. And yes, I do have a revolver attachment.'' 
 
 Unfortunately, he could n't hear the second part of the two-liner, as I already was blazing away, the gun ripping through the skin on my wrist, firing with loud bangs and hisses of smoke. One, two, three, four, five, - really?! I thought their sadism value was high, but their arrogance? Idiots still had n't moved! Six, seven, eight - bam! One down! Sure enough, Mitch slumped over, the hologrammed pupils going black, normally green computer inside his brain black with ash. 
 
 Jake looked up at me, expression a mixture of irritation and surprise. `` You blew out his circuits... but eight-bulleters have been outlawed for a millenia! Who are you?!'' 
 
 The gun slowly lowered back into my body, and I shuddered as bullets struggled their way up my veins, hungrily burrowing their way to my arm. I stood up, slowly, wrinkling my nose as the smell of burned robotics. Probably was so bad on purpose, so security could notice arson or something. My right eye finally slid open, bathing the room in blue light. He stepped back now, fear entering the cocktail of AI-selected emotions on his face. `` I am Holly, Mark-VII. You should never have come here.'' 
 
 `` Holly...'' he breathed reverently. `` One of the last alive! Holy shit, we'll get such a huge upgrade if we take you in!'' 
 
 `` You could use an upgrade in common sense,'' I replied, as the gun swiveled out again. He *still* was n't moving! One, two, three, four, five, six, are you fucking kidding me, seven, eig-oh, no. He did move. 
 
 `` Do I? If you have any suggestions, you can send them in to Corp. After we're done with you,'' he replied, having camly ducked with inhuman speed from the last bullet. `` I just wanted to get the extra chip out. It's a pain getting them normally.'' 
 
 Indeed, he reached into his head and pulled out a tiny computer chip as the gun lowered itself back to reload again. Jake bent down, stuffing the chip into his colleague's head. I should probably have killed him then, but new tech was always so interesting! Mitch's eyes flickered on again, and his companion said, `` Did you hear? She's a Holly, Mark VII! We'll be so rich we could-'' 
 
 `` A *Holly*?! Fuck, what are you standing around for?!'' 
 
 He scrambled up, frantically stroking the numbers on his arm, almost as if... entering a passcode? `` Get into combat mode, quick!'' 
 
 `` Fine,'' Jake grumbled, `` Ca n't really have fun with her after though.'' 
 
 After a moment, both of their bodies changed: steel plates rotated over skin, hands morphed into blades, muscles swelled until they were identical size, and their eyes glowed green. `` SUBMIT TO SEIZURE IMMEDIATELY. TERMINATION IF NO COMPLIANCE.'' Aww, they had n't programmed human dialogue for combat mode. Well, if I could n't hear their intelligent discourse, what need did I have for them? 
 
 I strode forward, raising right and left arms up; revolvers spun out from both wrists, blasting at the robot that had been Mitch. He raised his blade-arms calmly and the bullets spun and pinged off them, leaving no marks. Jake dashed towards me from the left, a grey blur of gleaming death - and was flung back against by my the glowing blue wards, sending cracks spiraling away from his impact. Now for Mitch. The revolver in my right hand folded and spun, transforming into a more potent weapon. 
 
 `` WE ARE FIREPROOF,'' Mitch declared, completely emotionless. Even the programmers were arrogant. Why tell your enemy that? Smiling in reply, I let the eager flames loose. As always, the little burst seemed to suck in heat and light from around it, tendrils reaching greedily in every direction, whirlwinds of red and orange and yellow spiraling in the tiny canister's worth of dragonfire. Jake finally climbed back onto the ground from the wall - and stopped, staring at the melting goop his companion had been, fire still burning, eager for more to sate its hunger. 
 
 Making sure to stay well away from it, I turned back toward him, coughing up a small black orb into my left hand. `` Maybe I will write to Corp. Tell them to not program rape into their bots.'' The cyborg stumbled forward, raising it blades again, but I hurled the grenade at it, covering my eyes as bound lightning arced out of the ball, digging eagerly into the metal man, sending steel flying and splintering into every corner. When the light cleared, all that was left of Jake was scraps and circuits littering the floor. 
 
 Smirking with satisfaction, I exited the room. There was a reason we were made illegal. Because Corp could n't control us, because their best cyborgs could n't fight us. Clockwork. The perfect mixture of magic and technology. God damn but that felt good. A nice easy fight after that mess with the faerie the other week. I was almost starting to miss- No! Fuck no! I was done with this shit! No more fighting! The point of this forsaken island was to party and swim and get hammered every day! I was done with the rebellion! 
 
 I strode, angrily now, through two more rooms before I finally noticed. Stopping in my tracks, I doubled my snarl and clenched my fists. The blaring club music was gone - replaced by the soft tinkling of a piano and three low murmuring voices. These *fucking* idiots. I would n't fight for them! I was done! No matter what candies they served me up! Furious, I stalked onto the club floor.
