"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic
-Arthur C. Clark
Waking up to a knife lodged in your chest would be extremely alarming-and to be fair it is-but it can lose some of its shock factor when it's happened several times in recent memory. Jace has been in and out of consciousness for the better part of three weeks, undergoing some non-voluntary body modifications under the "careful" ministrations of Doctor Wells. Across from him a tarnished mirror reflects his bloodied form. Shackled to a metal table, overgrown brown hair falling over icy blue eyes as his one remaining arm flexes against his restraints. Pushing past the agony that has become an old friend he reflects on what exactly brought him here.
"You sure about this, Zack?" Jace asks. "Sure I'm sure, 'sides what do you have to lose?". Mulling over his words for a moment he reluctantly agrees, pushing onward over the rusted mounds of scrapped equipment while avoiding the jagged edges of some of the larger pieces. "I just don't want to piss off some glitchy bot near the dump site, the last time that happened you almost died." "You'd have loved that wouldn't ya?" Zack looks over from behind dirty blonde hair, green eyes sparkling with mirth. "Then you coulda taken my boots, the arm and the scrap from my bag and you wouldn't be out here risking your ass to make rent!" Jace lays in a quick punch to his friend's shoulder- which lets out a metallic thump with the impact- and sighs. "he isn't wrong about that, I could really use a big score." The last month has been tough, between rising Nutri-Blocks prices, good scrap getting harder to find and the repairs he had to make on his place credits have been tight, any worse and the Overseer might think he's worth more getting parted out or augged than as a scrapper.
Speaking (Thinking?) of getting augged he looked over to Zack's arm, Honestly the guy got lucky, a mostly functional arm with as few bugs as Jace had seen on any scrapper, The exposed metal was almost blue in tint, orbs of orange lining up the side of his bicep. "You keep checking me out like that you're gonna make me blush" jolted from his thoughts Jace looked over at Zack's light smile and waggling eyebrows. "shut up, you know I could do so much better, like for example a hound or-"Don't start with that shit again!"-your sister." Smile gone like a gust of wind Zack shoves Jace, hard. Maybe harder than he means to, as with the whirring sound of Zack's Aether Tech Jace is launched off his feet. For one heart-clenching moment he sees Zack's face of horror; before he goes sailing through the air into a mound of scrap.
Impact.
Pain.
As Jace opens his eyes he sees Zack's panicked face over him. "No no please I'm sorry I'm so sorry!" Jace realizes he's clutching at something near his chest and as he looks down he sees what's causing that itchy, fiery sensation. Pushing through the meat of his shoulder and spearing through his ragged jumpsuit is a jagged metal blade, blood pouring around the rusted metal in small spurts, rapidly staining the faded blue cloth crimson. Frozen in shock, Jace looks past him, the colors of the yard dimming and blurring together into a monochrome gray. Zack fumbles at his waist for his satchel and pulls out a small metal sphere that has certainly seen better days, his bloodied hands pressing it near his wound. Thin metal tendrils quickly separate from the ball; forming into wiry legs as the beaten AutoDoc stands on Jace's chest. Through the deepening delirium he remembers the time they found the little thing. Sparking and letting out trails of Aether near one of the more recent dumpsites. Little bugger tried to drill a hole in Jaces' eye when he got too close, screaming that it wasn't authorized to be used outside of "Protector '' Gregory's office. Ducking the drill and turning off the damn thing had been trouble but maybe it was worth-
“WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED USE DETECTED, PLEASE SEE OVERSE-diagnostic completed, probability of death without immediate assistance at 72 percent, emergency assessed, override conditions accepted, ERROR: no sedative or antiseptics located in reserves, commencing manual stitching, please remove object from site of injury, please remove object from site of injury...”. Blaring out on repeat, Zach quickly levers a hand under his fellow scrappers body and with a quick jerk; lifts him from the pile. A sharp scream of pain rips its way from Jace's throat, his vision blackening with the ghoulish sensation of cold metal punching through hot flesh. Drifting in and out of awareness didn't save him from the agony of each jolt, as Zack seemed to haul him over one broad shoulder, quickly hoofing it back through the junk and back towards the cell blocks. Zack can handle this without him right? Just gotta take a quick nap...
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Through the gray fog he catches snippets of voices arguing, "I have to, this run was his only chance to avoid getting parted out, he did it for us..." Zack's baritone voice chimes.
"It wasn't the same, you know we have to look out for ourselves." A feminine voice replies.
Something about the Overseer? Jace fights to stay coherent but loses the battle for consciousness against the pain and exhaustion of his injuries, quietly letting out a moan "fuck you too Sarah."
Jace sat hunched over a table in his cluttered workshop, surrounded by discarded pieces of scavenged machinery. His hands moved with precision, carefully assembling parts and reconnecting wires. "Tinkering again?" Zack asked. "Trying to anyway, not gonna risk powering it on if that's what you're thinking." Jace replied. Spending all his free time watching Holovids on machinery repairs and AI theory crafting has to be worth something right? "If I can get one of these drones up and running then maybe I could push to be an engineer instead of scrapping junk until I keel over." Jace scratches at the fuzz growing on his cheeks. Sixteen years old and already having to shave...
Awareness slowly returns to Jace as he peers around at somewhat familiar surroundings. His bleary eyes unfocused as he takes in the drab gray walls, simple metal furniture and the desiccated bunk he lies on. There's a half-eaten Nutri-Block sits on the table next to him and the corner of a note sticking out from the bottom. Peering down at his chest he expects to see an ugly open wound but instead finds only a mesh-like pattern of metal over what should be a two inch hole in his right pectoral. The skin around it is puffy and red, a stark contrast to its usual paleness. Fresh out of a fever dream and mind wandering, he thinks of the first time he actually saw the sun, instead of the dull green glow of the sunlamp below the stacks. The horrible red burns he had from that day remind him of the searing heat that still lingers near his wound.
Shifting inch by careful inch he reaches for the prepared Nutri-Block, never really one to turn down a free meal; particularly one with no strings attached. The dull brown cube may taste like rust flakes and machine smog but at least it keeps the hunger away for a week. Taking small bites out of the cube he reads over the holodisk note that was left for him. Honestly, it's a miracle he can read let alone write, one of the topside citizens decided to do something nice for the rats a few years back, "probably to make themselves feel better about the privilege they have up there.", he snorts.
Hey Jay-C I'm really sorry...I thought I was used to the arm by now, the glitches have been... well anyway, I'm heading over to the dumpsite, i'll give you anything I pick up today after I take care of Sarah, she's getting worse. Can hardly remember a time when she wasn't sick...I should be back by the time they kick off the lamps but if I'm not I left a cube out for you, try not to fuck with whatever weird metal bandage the doc put on you, scared me bad when it pulled out the drill again, thought it was holding a grudge haha. Uh, not sure how to tell ya this so I'm just gonna say it, that bandage seems to move every hour or so, you screamed out when it happened but you weren't bleeding like a stuck hound anymore, so I figured I'd let it be. Don't follow me, I'll be careful and it seems like this arm can really throw a punch so if I run into any SEC drones I'll handle it. Besides, how many scrappers you know have Military Tech?
-Zack
Zack was heading to the damn site Alone! Crazy bastard is gonna get himself killed for sure! Easing himself into a sitting position took some doing but didn't seem to cause any more pain at least. The metal binding sort of... Flexed as he moved which felt strange but at least he wasn't gonna pass out again, still wearing his ragged jumpsuit he looked through his satchel, Holodisk, Water, and his multitool all accounted for he took a deep breath, felt his heartbeat pump against the adrenaline and headed back outside to save a friend.