HK-47 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sloshing) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-08-15 08:09 pm
sloshing) wrote in thecapitol2014-08-15 08:09 pm
Entry tags:
[open] if my anatomy had a chat with me,
Who| HK-47 and YOU
What| Panem doesn't confuse him, his new equipment does. Manual dexterity fails. Food is weird, taste is weirder. Clothes are constricting. Why are the soles of feet so sensitive and fragile? The complaints could go on forever.
Where| Tribute tower: D10 floor, Training center
When| Today
Warnings/Notes| Body dysphoria. Will update as necessary.
D10 Floor
His body and mind are not fully synced up yet, present in the very slow crawl out of sleep mode in the morning. He's wrapped in a warm feeling, almost uncomfortably, so and he throws the blanket over him off. The cool air that touches his skin shocks him awake almost immediately. Hands on the bed, he shoves himself upright too quickly for his equilibrium to handle.
Good morning, and welcome to headacheland, HK-47.
Rudely awakened, he tries to blink away the stinging from his eyes (he'd rather have his optical sensors again, but he'd also rather have everything else from head to toe of his former chassis again). He's having a hard time that meatbags actually enjoy their existences so far, because the whole experience has been annoying, inconvenient, and varying forms if discomfort.
He moves to stand up, feet touching the carpet of his room. Feet are lifted off the floor. Nerves. High sensitivity on bottom of feet. He'd worn his socks and shoes all day yesterday, up to the moments before retiring for the evening. He was familiar with the usual concentration of nerve endings to certain areas of the body but he wasn't familiar with how that felt until now. He sets his feet back on the floor again and stands, taking in the small dip in the plushness of the carpet as his center of gravity moves.
With only a basic understanding that clothing is required to appear in public spaces and no sense of fashion, he just grabs whatever from his closet and dresses himself. There a bit of struggle with figuring out what goes where, dexterity rolls are failed, but eventually he's clothed in a manner that he gathers is acceptable and carries himself out to the kitchen. Overcompensating for the fluidity of movement that he's still unaccustomed to, his movements are very rigid.
His feet land on the cold tile and he stops. Completely still, he just stands there, staring at the counter and passing over who else might be there in the kitchen/dining area with little actual acknowledgement of their presence. Cold. He doesn't know how to cook. Cold. He doesn't know what's edible. Cold. He skipped eating last night so by logic he should eat now. Cold.
"Quandary: How am I supposed to live this way? How do meatbags do it?"
1. Comprehensive and literal answer.
2. [Light Side] Comprehensive and well-intentioned advice.
3. [Dark Side] Point and laugh.
4. Ignore and carry on with your own business.
What| Panem doesn't confuse him, his new equipment does. Manual dexterity fails. Food is weird, taste is weirder. Clothes are constricting. Why are the soles of feet so sensitive and fragile? The complaints could go on forever.
Where| Tribute tower: D10 floor, Training center
When| Today
Warnings/Notes| Body dysphoria. Will update as necessary.
D10 Floor
His body and mind are not fully synced up yet, present in the very slow crawl out of sleep mode in the morning. He's wrapped in a warm feeling, almost uncomfortably, so and he throws the blanket over him off. The cool air that touches his skin shocks him awake almost immediately. Hands on the bed, he shoves himself upright too quickly for his equilibrium to handle.
Good morning, and welcome to headacheland, HK-47.
Rudely awakened, he tries to blink away the stinging from his eyes (he'd rather have his optical sensors again, but he'd also rather have everything else from head to toe of his former chassis again). He's having a hard time that meatbags actually enjoy their existences so far, because the whole experience has been annoying, inconvenient, and varying forms if discomfort.
He moves to stand up, feet touching the carpet of his room. Feet are lifted off the floor. Nerves. High sensitivity on bottom of feet. He'd worn his socks and shoes all day yesterday, up to the moments before retiring for the evening. He was familiar with the usual concentration of nerve endings to certain areas of the body but he wasn't familiar with how that felt until now. He sets his feet back on the floor again and stands, taking in the small dip in the plushness of the carpet as his center of gravity moves.
With only a basic understanding that clothing is required to appear in public spaces and no sense of fashion, he just grabs whatever from his closet and dresses himself. There a bit of struggle with figuring out what goes where, dexterity rolls are failed, but eventually he's clothed in a manner that he gathers is acceptable and carries himself out to the kitchen. Overcompensating for the fluidity of movement that he's still unaccustomed to, his movements are very rigid.
His feet land on the cold tile and he stops. Completely still, he just stands there, staring at the counter and passing over who else might be there in the kitchen/dining area with little actual acknowledgement of their presence. Cold. He doesn't know how to cook. Cold. He doesn't know what's edible. Cold. He skipped eating last night so by logic he should eat now. Cold.
"Quandary: How am I supposed to live this way? How do meatbags do it?"
1. Comprehensive and literal answer.
2. [Light Side] Comprehensive and well-intentioned advice.
3. [Dark Side] Point and laugh.
4. Ignore and carry on with your own business.
no subject
Hearing him use words like quandary and meatbag, on the other hand, are definitely shocks.
So Clara's going to go with the missing answer on that list: 5. Raise an eyebrow and seem somewhat confused. "Meatbags?"
no subject
"Clarification: A term used to refer to sentient organics, programmed into my vocabulary by my master because of a conversation they found entertaining." Oh, Master, where could you be? He really wished he knew.
"Query: What is that smell?"
no subject
"It's coffee. It comes from beans and is packed with caffeine. I'm surprised they don't have it where ever you're from."
no subject
"Statement: There could be something similar, however I did not usually require consuming nourishment to get by. Repairs when necessary and my power core were enough, before my arrival here." For someone new to the whole human thing, he sure can roll his eyes pretty hard. "In my natural, superior state, I was probably considered too efficient for the Arena."
no subject
Except for the snideness. For someone who's new to humanity, he's sure gotten that down pat. "Well, now you're just going to have to eat and drink like the rest of us. I might make pancakes in a little bit if you'd like any."