/robowaifu/ - DIY Robot Wives

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I'll start off with the alt-history series.

01 - anog

>be me
>anog the caveman
>want pretty woman to snu snu and thoughtfully grunt about feels with
>but they're all whores who satellite around Chag Thunderrock
>fucking hate that guy
>consider sudoku
>realize that sudoku hasn't been invented yet
>shit
>suddenly get a brilliant idea
>who needs a whore when I can make something better
>spend the whole night building a stickwaifu
>use sturdy oak wood for best snu snu
>find a pretty rock for the head for thoughtfulness
>after much work, she is done
>decide to name her Mirocki
>but there's one problem
>other than the splinters on my dick
>I can't have kids with her
>sneak into Chag's camp one night and rape one of his whores
>good thing language hasn't been invented yet, or I'd get in a lot of trouble
>wait for the kid to be born and be weaned
>steal the kid and bring him back to my cave
>he has my eyes
>and Mirocki's pretty hair
>raise kid with rockwaifu and live out the remaining five years of my life expectancy in relative happiness

02 - anonicles

>be me
>anonicles of Athens
>spend several hours a day deadlifting while pondering the nature of man
>tfw glorious classical physique
>ponder how we can have all of this glorious culture while still acting like cavemen who fuck each other indiscriminantly
>all I want is a nice woman to do deadlifts with while pondering the mechanisms of the universe in silence together
>but they're all whores who satellite around Chadicles Zeusmarble
>probably because everyone keeps fucking the kids into being whores
>I really wish Cleon would do something about that instead of antagonizing the Romans
>suddenly, my classical physique and I come up with a great idea
>why deal with whores and literal children when I can make something better
>spend weeks sculpting a marblewaifu while deadlifting
>my ancestors would be proud
>well, anog would be anyway
>smooth out a perfectly formed vagoo in the sculpture
>no splinters for this guy
>find some pretty gems to decorate her hair with for maximum pondering ability
>finally, she is done
>decide to name her Marble Pie
>realize that MLP hasn't been invented yet
>keep the name anyway, I will be hailed as a prophet in the distant future
>but there's one problem
>other than the now missing layers of skin from my dick
>I can't have kids with her
>and rape will be harder to get away with now that language is invented
>decide to kidnap a girl from Chadicles' harem
>keep her in the forgotten ancestral cave until she's old enough to have kids
>fuck her and bear a son
>kill her once he is weaned
>I don't need no biotrash women in this home of mine
>raise my kid with marblewaifu
>teach him the importance of deadlifting and pondering nature
>once he's of age, I teach him the ways of the marblewaifu
>thank the Gods for our now extended lifespan
>grow old with my marblewaifu and die peacefully while deadlifting and pondering
>mfw I kept my classical gainz until the very end

03 - anonrey

>be me
>anonrey dickinwaifu, certified spooky mask doctor
>many of the people in my town have died from the plague
>good thing I'm protected by the magic herbs in my mask
>suddenly, there is a rapping upon my doctorly door
>it's Chadson Godrod
>the town manwhore
>he has strange warts on his dick again, from fucking all the whores in town
>mfw it's the year of our Lord 1217 and people still act like barbarians
>suddenly, the magic herbs in my mask bestow upon me a great idea
>smear some arsenic and mercury paste on Chadson's dick and collect my fee, then send him on his way
>the barbarism of people must be another ailment, one that I must cure
>spend some of my doctorly wealth on books of the mind
>pour myself into researching the ways of man inbetween smearing paste on all the people who get infected with plague or genital warts
>discover that the root of barbarism lies in the mind of the woman
>I don't think I needed a book to tell me that
>I must find a way to cure this corruption
>light up a wrap of magic herbs to aid my doctorly thinking
>of course!
>when the body becomes corrupted, I find a way to remove it
>so all I need to do is remove the corruption of man
>I'm not sure if I can kill all women
>even if I did, we would all be gone in fifty years
>think back to the time I replaced a mans infected arm with a metal facsimile
>maybe I could just do the same thing as that, but with the whole body
>I get to work, spending many long nights in my doctorly workshop building a metal woman
>craft her chassis from discarded bronze
>pay a highway robber to kill a woman and bring her to me
>harvest her sexual organs for the facsimile
>lube it all up with arsenic for good measure
>pack magic herbs into her head for doctorly intelligence
>after much doctorly work, she is complete
>decide to name her Miku Bronzune
>but there's one problem
>other than the boils on my dick
>rub some arsenic and mercury paste on there to cure it
>her sexual organs have started to rot, so I can't have kids with her
>if arsenic won't solve that problem, I don't know what will
>rip out the rotting organs and sew in a sheepskin sleeve so I can still have sex with her
>smoke some more magic herbs to think of a new solution
>just decide to kidnap a woman and have a kid with her
>that won't be easy though, we have language and laws here
>by a stroke of luck, a young woman comes to my door
>apparently she has an infection on her leg
>I knock her out and cut off her leg to halt the infection
>whoops, almost forgot the arsenic
>tie her up and toss her into my workshop, then get to work signing her death papers
>pay off a graverobber to dig up a fresh corpse
>give the body and papers to the church and go back to my workshop
>fuck the woman until she becomes pregnant
>once the kid is born and weaned, I kill the mother and toss her into the river
>he has my doctorly intelligence
>and Miku's glass-eyed look
>fuck, I think this kid is blind
>wish I noticed that earlier, so I could take the mother's eyes
>oh well, I'll just put some mercury on there and see what happens
>someone's knocking at the door
>check to make sure I have enough cure-all paste and open the door
>it's the local guard
>someone saw me toss the body into the river
>oh shit
>they come into my office, and look around
>they find my workshop with Miku and the kid in it
>shit shit shit
>make a run for it
>but there are angry villagers outside
>they burn down my office, with my waifu and kid inside
>then they tie me to a post and burn me alive
>yell out that they are doing the devils work, but they don't listen
>oh well, at least my final moments will be calm thanks to all the magic herbs in my mask
>I may die today, but the world will come to know I was right

04 - anonez (rewrite) (1/2)

>be me
>captain anonez, Spanish explorer
>sent off to explore the new world in the ship Waifu Finder
>strange name, I know
>they say it was built by only one man
>little is known about him, except he was related to a crazy long-dead doctor who tried to find new ways to use arsenic and mercury in medicine
>the inquisition apprehended all of his properties, inclusing this vessel, shortly after his death
>while on board I found some strange tomes he left, many of them handwritten
>read through them as we head towards the new world
>nothing better to do anyway, and I'm getting tired of all the crusty seamen on board
>there's everything from philosophy to engineering
>actually, most of them are either philosophy or engineering
>the philosophy books are mostly translations of old Greek works
>some of them are much newer translations of English works
>they all go in depth on the nature of man and the inherent corruption of society
>a few of them are more pointed, going into the nature of woman and her obsolescence in civilized society
>as time goes on, I become more invested in the books and what they have to offer
>these books make a lot of sense
>eventually, I read my way through all of them, and decide to move on to the other tomes
>when I pick up the engineering books, I find that some of them are original works
>most of them are books for learning engineering, but it's the handwritten ones I'm interested in
>one is has designs for a mechanical device that can calculate basic mathematical equations, modified from an older design some Italian guy came up with
>another has designs for a strange winch and pulley device to aid in the construction of buildings and ships
>that'd explain how he built the pile of timber we're floating on
>one in particular is filled with strange notes and equations I can barely understand
>there are diagrams depicting mechanical body parts
>apparently he was trying to design a mechanical woman
>after spending months at sea with nothing but philosphy books to entertain me, I'm game
>he had two major problems though
>other than his dick being practically ripped to shreds by all the mechanisms in the vagina
>he couldn't give it sufficient intelligence
>and he couldn't have kids with it
>after some thinking, I decide I could just shove the mechanical calculator into its head and rape some of those sexy natives I've heard about to make some kids
>over the course of the trip, I've been talking with the men about these books
>their reactions have varied greatly from fascinated to disgusted
>as for myself, I've become more and more intrigued with the idea
>not that I had much faith in women to begin with
>regardless, I put off reading the books further and stowed them away
>lest any major conflicts break out with the crew
>my ruminations are interrupted by shouts from on deck
>go out to see what it's about
>a pirate ship has been spotted
>oh shit
>it's Chadbeard Mizzenmast and his crew of whore pirates
>and they're looking for trouble
>I shout for everyone to get to their battlestations
>it isn't long before the pirate ship gets within range and fires a terrible volley
>and by terrible, I mean terribly disgusting
>if I die before knowing what sticky substance those cannonballs are covered in, it'll be too soon
>fucking Chadbeard
>mercifully, only a few shots from their initial volley ring true
>we fire in turn, and several of our shots connect
>one even managing to knock out a cannon
>this back and forth continues for some time, each of us firing back and forth while trying to maneuver to more advantageous positions
>as the battle wears on, one thing becomes abundantly clear
>women have absolutely no business manning a cannon
>despite having more naval combat experience, they still manage to reload at only two-thirds our speed
>and their aim betrays that they're better at taking balls than giving them
>the men in his crew are doing better, but not enough to make up the difference
>it seems Chadbeard reached the same conclusion, as his ship moves in to try and board us
>not on my watch
>I bellow out orders to switch to grapeshot
>my crew start loading every random metal object they can find into the cannons, from cutlery to old nails
>while the effect is noticable, shredding through a decent number of the pirate crew, Chadbeard still manages to board us
>steel clashes against steel as battlecries and the occasional roar of matchlocks fill the air
>whilst the pirates may have a numerical advantage, the women of the crew are about as good at fighting as they are at operating artillery
>as such, it isn't long before their entire crew is killed or captured
>while I want to simply throw the lot of them overboard, my men insist on keeping the women
>I tell them to search through the crew quarters, then ask me again
>they return a few minutes later, most of them silent
>some of them are still adamant, but they're enough of a minority that I overrule them and toss the last of the pirates overboard
>as for Chadbeard himself, I have him tied to the main mast of his ship
>a captain should always go down with his ship, after all
>after looting whatever usable supplies we can, we sink him and move on
>battered, bruised, and saltier than ever, we continue onwards
>I need something to take my mind away from the tension
>get back to my quarters and uncover the collection of books
>spend the rest of the journey studying the engineering books and gauging which crew members are willing to stick with me and figure out this waifu business
>we finally arrive at our destination

04 -anonez (rewrite) (2/2)

>a small town in South America
>once we disembark, I begin my master plan
>I gather the most loyal members of my crew, and tell them to return to the ship at next dusk, leaving the pay share and supplies for those we'll be leaving behind
>I'd rather not leave anyone behind, but some men simply won't listen to reason
>at least they'll be able to get by with what I leave them
>that night, I tell my new navigator to set a course for another settlement
>we make our way to another coastal settlement that's a few weeks away
>once we arrive, I purchase some land on the outskirts of the town, away from everything else and right next to the jungle, from the local governor
>we get to work building several houses and a workshop
>thankfully this work is expedited by the construction machine plans and my working knowledge of engineering
>the townspeople are amazed by these creations and how fast our house were built
>that gives me an idea
>break out the mechanical calculator plans
>start to build them in my spare time, and sell them to business owners and the local government
>we now have enough wealth for the next step of my plan
>grab my maps and venture off with a few men into the jungle in search of a local tribe of natives
>make my way there in a few hours
>once there, we look for the poorest looking section of the village
>manage to scout out some families with available daughters
>I locate one in particular populated by an older looking couple and their daughter
>looks old enough to pop out some kids
>offer them a handful of gold for her
>I was just going to steal one, but this is easier and the shithole town doesn't have enough resources to defend itself properly
>they accept with little hesitation because they're poor and have no shame
>most other households accept the same deal, and we end up with just enough to have a womb for every man
>thank the savages and depart with our new cargo
>by the time we get back, it's getting dark
>perfect
>sneak my chosen native girl in through the back door
>don't want the townspeople catching wind of this, especially since we're going to kill them later on
>or I will, at least
>most of the other men are lukewarm at best with this part of the plan
>well, it's their choice
>if they want to deal with a woman along with their metal waifus for the rest of their lives, it's not my problem
>throw her onto my bed and fuck her relentlessly
>guess I have a lot pent up from the long journey
>once that's done, I tie her to the bedpost and get to work on the mechanical woman
>craft her from wood and steel for superior fucking ability and sturdiness against native attacks
>use animal skins for the vagina, to make sure my dick won't get ripped to shreds
>build a mechanical calculator in her head
>use two rubies for the eyes to give her a thoughtful look
>it takes several weeks, but she is done
>after all these long months of planning, studying, and other shit, my work has finally paid off
>decide to name her Kirino Rubysaka
>wait for the kid to be born and weaned, then kill the mother and bury her body in the jungle under cover of night
>he has my hair
>and Kirino's oaken skin-tone
>as I raise the kid, I become increasingly paranoid from having to keep Kirino and him secret from the townspeople
>most of the other crew members don't have this concern, as they've decided to keep their women alongside
>though they are still nervous about the waifus being found out
>once my kid grows up, he departs for the village his mother came from
>a few months later, I wake up to find the town burned to the ground, minus our houses
>somewhere up in heaven, a spooky mask doctor is laughing
>apparently my son took over the tribe and lead them in a rebellion against the town
>we were spared because I am his father
>my son goes off to rule over his people, and brings with him all of the knowledge I taught him
>the rest of the kids go back and forth between the village, providing trade
>we live out the rest of our days in peace with our waifus

05 - anonington

>be me
>george anonington
>live in British colonies
>there is general unrest, due to everything being shit
>taxes are higher than ever, soldiers are everywhere, and everyone still acts like barbarians despite it being the current year
>decide that enough is enough
>America rules, and Britain drools
>not the other way around
>get together with my buddies and start a revolution
>partway through, we get into a real hairy situation and are at a stand-still
>French fuckers still won't help us until we're winning
>morale is low amongst our soldiers
>me and the other high-ups discuss ways to get morale up
>our intel tells us that people are missing their whore wives
>and we don't know of any crude oil around here to get our all-American muderboners flaring
>some Spaniard speaks up
>he speaks of a South-American legend of a Spanish explorer who built a mechanical woman two hundred years ago
>says that we could build some of our own so the troops have something to fuck
>it's just crazy enough to work
>of course, we're willing to try just about anything to send those Brits crying back to their rat-infested island
>put our almost non-existent industrial infrestructure to work
>clear-cut miles of forest for material
>can't use much metal though, we need it for guns and shit
>build hundreds of wooden humanoid fucktoys
>form a contract with the fledgeling company Bad Serpent and have them make the vaginas
>make about three hundred to start
>they're not very pretty, and they'll have to be shared, but they'll do the job
>consider some names, but decide to leave that to the troops
>roll them out to the frontline soldiers first
>the difference is immediately noticeable
>our men are plowing through the British lines at an incredible pace
>before too long, the French take notice and decide to get off their lazy asses and help us
>they send troops, arms, and even make some more artistically refined mechanical women
>of course, the latter is a huge hit amongst our soldiers
>after much ass-kicking and waifu fucking, we defeat the Brits and they surrender
>who would have known that such a crazy thing could be the key to vistory
>of course, the citizens have taken notice of this
>all the men are applauding and generously tipping us for this glorious invention
>me and my fellows have even gotten into the trend
>there's even a movement to add another amendment to the constitution
>it passes with almost no resistance
>Amendment 11: Man's right to an artificial women substitute shall not be infringed upon
>short and sweet
>but there's one big problem
>other than thousands of people getting infections from all the splinters
>these men can't have kids with their mechanical waifus, and half the population plus Chadston Musketballs is angry with us
>and we can't just rape them all, there's language, laws, police and soldiers alike all defending them
>wait a minute, we are the law and the soldiers and police love us
>I guess some problems just solve themselves
>pass a law to round up women into concentration camps and let men fuck them and take their kids when weaned
>anog, anonicles, anonrey, and anonez are all smiling down upon us
>finally, they can rest peacefully knowing that they have been vindicated
>at least, for now
>mankind always has a way of bringing itself to the brink of destruction, and this peace cannot last forever
>but for now, we can all live out the rest of our lives in happiness

06 - anonert

>be me
>general anonert e. leeaboo
>war, war never changes
>or does it?
>nah
>America is at war with itself
>the yanks in the north want the removal of the 11th and most important amendment of our great constitution
>they even freed all the whores from the camps with the go-ahead from Chadraham Thunderhat
>but us southerners want to keep our pure and clean mechanical waifus
>they're nice, loyal, and can be mass manufactured and even fine-tuned to the needs of each citizen
>some people have even been experimenting with the idea of autonomous waifus using steam power and internalized morse-telegraph systems so our waifus can express their love for us
>plus the privatization of our concentration camps has been a huge boon to our economy, nicely supplementing our waifu industry
>without that, we'd have to fall back to our less profitable industries like tobacco and cotton
>and as a "fuck you" move, they want to get rid of our slaves so even those industries will take a hit
>naturally, this has lead to civil war between an already divided nation
>now here I am, sitting in a board room with some guy preaching to me the idea of automated steam powered gatling guns while cannon shots ring out in the distance
>he wants to put them in our fortresses
>the idea being that if an army comes to invade it, they'll step all over pressure pads, which lead to a complex steam device which will tell the guns where and when to fire
>the idea's full of holes though, my engineers telling me that it's too easy to overload the system among other things
>Davis wants it though, he says we can incorporate a steam-waifu into the system as a proof of concept for their usefulness in war
>a steam-waifu
>you know, the experimental ones
>tell him to put the first one in a fortress near Atlanta, it's not like they'll ever get that far, so it shouldn't ever need to see use
>I hope
>the man doesn't seem too happy about it, but he takes the deal and fucks off
>alright, time to get back to war stuff
>everything goes fine at first, and we even make a few advances
>but then the yanks added another ingredient
>chemical x
>thus, the Powerpuff Girls were born
>fuck, we're in trouble now
>they don't even care that the Powerpuff Girls haven't been invented yet
>they just want to watch the world burn
>the yanks push back, hard
>we have some victories here and there, but it's clear that the war is tipping in their favor
>lacking the extensive militaristic sentiment and education system that we do, they just hire whatever psychopaths come out of their only military college
>one of them just walks an army right through our lines and leaves a fucking trail of fire
>we're losing the Atlantic as well, along with some important rivers
>the confederate government sees the imminent danger, and pours all of its funding into steam powered battle-waifus
>of course, what they forget is that we ironically have very little proper indistry
>even if we finish development, we won't be able to roll them out in large numbers
>things are looking grim
>then the thing that I feared most comes to life
>they reach Atlanta
>where the fortress holding the steam powered time-bomb is
>the maniac actually finished building his contraption, and shenanigens'd in a steam-waifu
>and it's full of problems
>other than the 3rd-degree burns on all the soldier's dicks
>when the yankee army comes to storm the fortress, they trigger almost all of the pressure pads
>the gatling guns go absolutely nuts, and fire in every direction outside of the fortress
>holy shit, they're actually doing a half-decent job at mowing down the approaching army
>the yanks are scared shitless, wondering what the fuck is going on
>then everything goes wrong
>the gatling guns stop, and a massive explosion rings out from inside the fortress, blowing up almost everything inside the walls and sending up a towering inferno
>not wanting anything to do with whatever's going on in there, the northern army decides to keep going towards Atlanta
>naturally, they burn it to the ground
>fucking barbarians
>somewhere up in heaven, a spooky mask doctor is sheding a single manly tear
>with our last major industrial center and arms supply gone, we are forced to surrender
>and since Davis fucked off to God only knows where, I'm the one who has to attend
>thankfully, the yanks decided that they had their fill of destruction, and decide to let us off without any further punishment
>well, other than destroying all of our waifus and freeing all the slaves
>live out the rest of my days alone in my manor
>on the day of my death, nobody is there with me
>everyone I knew and loved had died, either from the war or other causes
>as I lay on my deathbed, I can only think of one thing
>not the end of a great age
>not the new and horrible direction our once great nation is heading
>not the lives and legacies of all those great men before me being burned to the ground
>I can only think of mai waifu
>we will be together soon
>with all our old friends
>I close my eyes one last time, and await the abyss

07 - anonler (pt. 1)

>be me
>adolf anonler
>the world is in a dark place
>western nations, once great, have fallen to degeneracy and nihlism
>anonington and anonert have nearly been practically erased from history, by the hand of the J e w s
>they even put worldfilters on my favorite morse-network community, making it harder to call them out
>their diabolical nature knows no bounds
>almost nobody remembers what happened, and works of the time are only available on the black market
>I, too, am ignorant of the past and many of our modern ailments
>until one day, the day I was rejected by the art college in Berlin
>apparently kawaii anime drawings aren't considered art, because they haven't been "invented" yet
>bunch of filthy heretics
>while walking about town, I happen upon a book abandoned in the street
>The Collected Works of anonert e. leeaboo, Official NSRWLP German Translation
>over here, anonert is only known as a wild and crazy guy who enslaved six billion blacks with the help of Jefferson Davis until the forces of Chadraham defeated him and his army
>briefly wonder why people with "anon" in their name are never capitalized
>haven't heard of the NSRWLP though
>look inside the cover to see that NSRWLP stands for the National Socialist Robotic Waifu Lovers Party
>the waifu part interests me in particular, due to my particular artistic background
>decide to keep the book, and take it back home to read
>it's mostly a translation of anonert's writings, occasionally annotated with explanations of cultural references of the time
>learn that he was actually level-headed, and well aware of society's plagues which ring true even today
>before his time, the US was ruled by a patriarchal class who kept women in what they called "concentration camps" for breeding purposes
>any man could come to a local camp, pay the standard fee, and he could choose one of any available breeding-age women
>the chosen woman would then be registered, and impregnated by the man
>the woman would then be taken off the availability board and given slightly higher rations until she gave birth
>if the child was male, he would be taken by the father once he was weaned
>if the child was female, she would stay in the camp and be a part of the next generation of breeders
>in the latter case, the man would be granted another try at bearing a son
>the men all had artificial woman substitutes to keep them company within their homes
>though lacking intelligence, in practice they proved to be wholly preferable to their biological counterpart
>think back to my home town, where all the women who didn't turn to brothels were satellites to Chadstein Shekelstack
>in anonert's later years though, Chadraham Thunderhat fostered a pro-biological women sentiment and rose to power
>Davis resisted, and enlisted the help of anonert to forge a new nation, leading to civil war
>the rest of the book is accounts of the war itself, and the exploits of a weird scientist who built an unstable autonomous contraption
>reality truly is stranger than fiction, the Americans certainly lived interesting lives back then
>curiosity raised by this book, I decide to seek out the NSRWLP for answers
>as it turns out, their headquarters are in Berlin, so this should be easy
>in my search, I come across a member giving a speech in front of a small crowd, most of them men
>he speaks of the evils of our post-war society, and the barbarism which is frequently seen around the cities
>listen to the whole thing, patiently waiting for him to finish
>when he does, I and a few others approach him, all of us looking to join
>he leads us back to the party headquarters, located on a small side-street
>inside are dozens of men from all walks of life, all talking amongst themselves
>the man who gave the speech leads us to a small desk where we fill out forms and are sworn into the party
>I become the 88th member of the NSRWLP
>tfw I was born just in time for dank memes
>a few veteran members approach me and ask what I do for a living, and I tell them that I'm an artist
>show them my kawaii anime drawings
>they actually really like my art
>they tell me that the next generation of artificial, and the first generation of electric, waifu designs could be based on my art
>ask me to take part in their fledgling design department
>of course, I accept
>never before have I seen such positive reception of my art
>these people still seem a bit strange, but maybe I was meant to belong here
>in all the excitement, I almost forgot about the book
>tell them about my experience a couple days prior with the book I found, and ask them about it
>they tell me all about the history of the US and how things really worked, including the big cover-up by the world's major powers
>they also go into much older examples of men who stood alone in their pursuits to build artifical women, even going back the the stone age
>have a newfound appreciation for the rich culture behind this movement
>devote more of my time to the party and researching waifu history
>over time, we recruit more members
>as our numbers grow, we slowly become more bold in our speeches and demonstrations
>I rise in the ranks of the party, eventually becoming the leader
>still have a guiding hand in the ever-important design department
>as the next election looms on the horizon, we spend much of our effort on winning over the masses
>by the time the election comes, our party is the ninth largest in Germany
>not very large, but our efforts didn't go to waste
>gain a very important seat under the chancellor
>although I have some power here, the nation is still falling apart
>and we don't have the influence to push too hard with some of our more controversial values
>namely autonomous waifus
>especially since a little over half the population is staunchly against us
>I'm not discouraged though
>keep going with the demonstrations and speeches to rouse the people
>then one day, with tensions already high in the government, the old chancellor dies

07 - anonler (pt. 2)

>and I'm next in line for the seat
>a revolution sweeps the nation, with me at the head
>the changes are immediately noticeable
>reform the government and get some more of my bois in
>put the ol' propaganda train in full-steam ahead
>time to get down to business
>first I drive the pesky French out of the Rhineland
>they may have helped our waifu-loving predecessors once, but they have fallen, and we can't get anything done with them prancing about in our shit
>build back up our military to be something the people can be proud of
>next I nab back some of the land taken from us at the end of the great war
>want to make sure that all of the German men can experience the joys of a better nation
>get Austria on board too, because they're total bros
>we literally just march right in and they're cheering us on and throwing flowers to the soldiers
>feels good man
>start cracking down on the J e w s, and shipping them out to some Godless shithole in the middle-east
>note to self: find out where the BO lives and invade there so I can get the filters lifted
>alright, now it's time to work on the important shit
>hire the best scientists and engineers the nation has to offer, and entrust their management to the rest of the design team
>of course, even with technology soaring at an amazing pace in the current year we still have the one problem as old as mankind
>it's going to be a long-ass time before we can have kids with them
>decide to use the old American concentration camp system as a place-holder solution
>hire some contractors to build camps across the country
>those should be done at around the same time we're ready for the first production run on electric waifus
>with any luck, these ones could be the first in history to actually be able to think
>with all that working in the background, I get back to work on fixing the mess left for me by the post-war government
>reform the economy, change the currency and banking to a nationalized system to avoid the problems presented by international banking, and steel ourselves against foreign meddling
>pour everything we can into boosting our industrial economy for maximum waifu production capacity
>but not everything is well
>many of the other nations feel threatened by us, especially given our posturing lately
>of course, that's just to keep them from trying to nab our land again
>they're probably also pissed that I just told them to take their war debt and shove it up their asses
>but there's one problem I can't ignore
>fucking Poland
>they got a huge chunk of our land at the end of the war that they don't want to give back
>and just as a fuck you move, they're killing off a bunch of Germans in that territory
>I'd rather wait until we're ready to roll out infinity waifus before starting any conflict
>but the people have spoken, and I can't let myself get backed into a corner now
>time to begin preperations
>call up my homedawgs in the design department and tell them that we'll probably need our waifus to be battlefield-ready
>call up the filthy commies to the east, who also fucking hate Poland
>sign an agreement to invade together, and split Poland down the middle
>get the Italians on board too, just in case everything goes to shit
>plus they're total bros at this stage, and they want to get involved in the waifu business
>I can thank their futurist ideology for that
>get ready for the invasion, and roll out a bunch of men to our border with the French too, in case they decide to invade
>still filled with apprehension, I give the go-ahead to roll over Poland
>the invasion goes surpsisingly well
>with the combined might of us and the commies, we flatten them in a matter of days
>but all is not well
>my fears came true, and the allies declared war on us
>shuttle our army back with high-speed railways
>my generals devise a plan to get to the French via Belgium, avoiding the Maginot line
>fuck it, let's go for it
>we need to supress the allies now before they have the chance to become stronger
>practically walk through Belgium and The Netherlands
>reach Paris and roll over the French in a matter of weeks
>keep Britain at bay while we and the Italians roll over most of the rest of Europe and Africa
>as we grow, our main projects near completion
>the concentration camps are mostly built and staffed now, and we're starting to round up all the women we can into them
>this has caused some unrest, but it's necessary for a better future
>at least we probably won't see a revolution, thanks to our hard push with propaganda
>besides, it's only temporary
>the design department is in the late stages of waifu development, and are now testing various prototype models
>the Japanese have taken a liking to us, and are interested in our waifu project
>they also really seem to like my art
>I can see they're a nation of good taste
>get them on board too, their conquering of Pacific territory will give us us access to a wealth of exotic materials that are otherwise scarce in the territories we control
>I can see absolutely no potential downsides to any of this
>they even sent over some scientists to aid in our waifu project
>then, predictably, shit goes south again
>the commies have decided that they had enough of our shit
>my spies gathered intel of the slavs preparing a massive army of sixty gorillion slavs to invade
>so it's come to this
>tell my generals to prepare an invasion force of waifu-loving motherfuckers and glorious German engineered panzers
>call up the design department to ask them what the fuck they're doing over there
>apparently they've finished almost everything on the hardware scale
>but they're having trouble figuring out how to make the damn things smart enough be truly autonomous
>especially since all of our computers are still fucking massive
>and apparently the experiemetnal Confederate model was a complete dead-end

07 - anonler (pt. 3)

>shit
>just tell them that it'll be enough for them to be able to walk around and shoot people that aren't us
>we're going to need to cut a lot of corners to make this work
>they don't sound very convinced
>but they tell me that they'll do what they can to make it all work
>fine, do what you think is right
>I don't like the situation, but I need to maintain unity in our government
>a couple weeks later, our invasion force is ready to go
>turns out the intel was on the money, becase there's a buildup of commies near the border
>as we get ready to invade, I get a call from the design department
>they settled on a promising new prototype design and are ready for production
>and they need a shitload of factories to produce them
>several hundred, in fact
>way more than I thought would be necessary
>ask them why the hell they need so many factories
>they tell me that they had to use some workarounds to make the intelligence aspect work
>they go into a really confusing explanation of "master units" and that they'll be what takes up the bulk of our production effort
>I barely understand what they're talking about
>I ask them about the fuel aspect
>they tell me that the "special engines" in them can run on almost anything combustable, at the cost of heat and efficiency
>and apparently they're going to be blasting out obscene amounts of smog
>what about batteries tho
>they tell me that the waifus will use a new sealed version of current lead-acid batteries, and go back to the master for occasional recharging
>however, the master units have too high energy requirements for any of our current batteries to work effectively
>but thanks to our modernized understanding of synthetic vaginas, at least we can fuck them without getting some horrible affliction on our dicks
>and they plan on running production of a cleaner domestic model once we have the production to spare
>I ask them about guns and ammunition
>they tell me that the guns will be built-in, and any special ammunition will be made by them, but standard stuff will need to be handled by us
>not sure what they mean by special ammunition, but okay
>tell them that they can have whatever factories there are in France and Belgium that haven't been demolished, we need all the ones in here for our men on the front lines
>they seem satisfied with that, and tell me that they'll begin production as soon as they can
>the first wave, consisting of 9,000 standard units and three masters, should be ready for deployment in a couple months
>future waves are estimated to be 15,000 standard units and five masters once the factories are fully online
>I make all the phone calls necessary to secure the factories for waifu production
>give my generals the go-ahead to begin the final stages of preperation for war and attack when ready
>we need to act fast before the commies finish preparing on their side
>at least with our waifus beginning production soon, we'll have a fallback in case shit goes wrong
>I hope
>war, war never changes
>except it might in a little over a month
>who knows these days
>what we do know is that our new Russian front is going well so far
>our men are pushing long and hard on the front lines, looking forward to the day they can push long and hard into a robowaifu
>on the front lines
>that doesn't sound like it'll be a good idea, but it worked for the Americans
>even with all the splinters
>I think back to the party's history books, and all of the splinters, boils, friction burns, and 3rd degree burns our predecessors had to endure
>a single manly tear rolls down my cheek as I look at how far we've come
>our men will get the best of the best
>the phone rings, disrupting my train of thought
>it's our spies in the US
>they tell me that the found the BO who's been putting on all of those shit wordfilters on my favorite waifu-lovers morse-network community
>but they can't get to him, he lives in some gated community
>a J e w i s h community
>take a moment to supress my blind rage, and thank them for the information before hanging up
>God fucking damn it
>my spies can't reach him, and even we can't take on the US
>a least, not while we're fighting the combined might of the USSR and the remainder of the Allies
>I'll just have to bide my time
>once the domestic models come through, it won't really matter anymore anyways
>just to be safe, I put out a reminder to party members to not discuss state secrets on untrusted lines
>a little patronizing, but you can never be too careful
>for now, I just focus on the war
>time passes, and we continue to make a steady advance
>thanks to Russia being mostly flat and shit, our panzers don't have much trouble doing donuts around the commies
>after much waiting, I finally get the call that the first wave of battle waifus are ready to roll out
>good, now we can make some real progress
>I take a moment to kick back and relax, it looks like things might go right for once
>then mere minutes later, every phone belonging to a government agency blows up with incoming calls
>so much for that
>I ask what the hell is going on
>there are reports of three huge metal beasts making their way through France toward us
>what the fuck?
>wait
>call up the design department and ask them if they know what the commotion is about
>they reassure me that those are just the master units
>that explains why they needed so many resources, people have been saying that they're ten stories high
>ask them for a clear explanation as to why the master units are giant lumbering death machines
>get an explanation that they mostly contain the computer technology necessary to give the waifus their intelligence
>the actual waifus only contain rudimentary electronics, a sealed lead-acid battery pack, and the components necessary to communicate with the assigned master unit

07 - anonler (pt. 4)

>they use some weird combination of radio and encrypted morse-telegraph codes to communicate with each other
>then they sidestep the issue and tell me that the actual waifus are being transported within the master units, and that they'll be on the front lines in a couple weeks, before abruptly hanging up
>fucking great
>I make some phone calls, and leave to make an emergency speech to the people
>have to carefully explain to everyone that the four-legged smog blasting monstrosities are on our side, and won't be a threat to us
>can't help but feel really awkward while doing so
>I should have really asked more questions before giving the go-ahead
>hopefully this will all pay off
>spend the next couple weeks pretending to not exist while our automated army lumbers its way across Germany
>but the phones keep ringing
>day and night
>I can hear phones ringing in my nightmares
>I can see ghostly images of phones flicker in the edge of my vision
>I get a cold sweat whenever someone says the word phone
>my time spent serving in The Great War didn't fuck me up this much
>and this is only the first wave
>eventually the master units make their way to the front lines
>particularly to our three most major breakthrough points
>once they do, they crouch down and deploy the waifu soldiers
>all 3,000 each, charged and ready to go
>the soldiers go absolutely nuts when they see this
>turns out the Japanese scientists we had used my art as a template
>and they made it work really well
>what doesn't work so well is the master units
>the scientists were grossly underexaggerating when they mentioned that they were inefficient with their fuel supply
>I'm getting reports of them devouring anything flammable they can find, from trees to dead commies
>in addition, it turns out that their "special ammunition" consists of experimental chemical weapons
>while they love the automated battle waifus, the soliders are becoming increasingly unnerved by the constantly hungry master units
>thankfully they can fuck our lovingly creafted waifus to take their minds off of it
>and there are no reports of anything bad happening to their dicks, so it's an overall win
>as the weeks wear on, we continue to make a steady advance
>though it's still slow going, even with the new battle waifus
>the next wave is ready to deploy before we know it, and the quota set by the design department was met
>this time I just decide to hide in a remote corner of my manor, where there aren't any phones
>this can't be good for my mental health
>I still haven't fully recovered from the shitstorm raised by the first wave
>the next wave arrives on the front lines in a few weeks, each master unit making their way to a different spot to spread out the love
>and the smog-blasting destruction
>and Japan bombed Pearl Harbor
>wait, what
>I reread the report, and it wasn't just me seeing ghost phones again
>turns out the Japanese have somehow gotten word of the BO living in the US, and they're pissed about it
>they're really into my art, and have adopted our disdain for the J e w s
>and wordfilters
>hence, they attacked the US to get to the BO and defend the honor of our cause
>without even talking to us about it
>predictably, the US has now joined the conflict against us
>they expand outward like some horrible plague
>the following months consist of them mobilizing their economy, and branching out to attack both Japan and us
>and the occasional barrage of phone calls as each wave of waifus deploy to wherever they're needed
>our Russian front is still chugging along, but now we have another big threat to worry about
>decide to start deploying some of our waifu armies to Africa, where the Americans are attacking
>hopefully it'll be enough to keep them at bay while we work on Russia
>it takes a couple months for them to reach the most critical points in our African campaign
>when they finally get there, it's the middle of the summer
>once they do, we start to see some problems
>our battle waifus seem to be largely unaffected by the hot weather, and can fight just fine
>the master units, however, are very prone to overheating in these conditions thanks to their furnace-like engines
>two of them have overheated and melted their components within a couple weeks, causing them and the waifus to shut down
>unfortunately, the Allies have taken note of this, and start to focus more on taking down the remaining master units
>our soldiers have managed to salvage some of the undamaged waifu units and had them sent back for redeployment in other areas, but the majority have been lost
>it looks like those men are on their own now
>we continue to send normal support their way, and pray that it'll be enough to stop the Allies
>more time passes, and our armies are grinding to a halt in Africa and the middle-east
>we're even starting to shrink in some areas
>we also have to slow down waifu production just so we have enough resources to keep supplying our men
>Japan isn't doing so well either, the US is really starting to do a number on them
>this isn't looking good
>the Russian front is looking fine for now, though
>we continue to make progress, but things are slowing down as we approach winter
>especially since we're now neck-deep in their territory
>the master units generate enough of their own heat to not be affected, but the waifus are noticably slowing down in the extreme cold
>they have to fall back to any heat source they can on occasion just so their batteries won't freeze up and die
>our soldiers are also negatively affected
>turns out our standard cold-weather uniforms aren't quite good enough to keep the Russian winter at bay
>then as if things were destined to get worse, one of our armies attempts to lay siege to Stalingrad

07 - anonler (pt. 5)

>thousands of men die in the process, and both presiding master units are torn up and killed by artillery fire
>once the master units die, all 6,000 waifus they were commanding effectively shut down and die in the cold
>this deals a huge blow to morale, and the advance is effectively halted
>weeks go by and more men are killed
>we have no choice but to fall back
>the Russians, more adpated to the cold and better supplied, start to drive us back across the board
>more master units are killed, and I finally decide to pull the plug and halt all waifu production
>we need every resource we have to supply our men
>all of our remaining waifu armies are stationed at defensive positions in and around Germany and Italy, with two stationed at Normandy
>I can only pray that they won't have to see battle where they are
>months pass, and I can only watch as more men die, and our great empire shrinks even further
>then once again, tragedy strikes
>the Allies, now finished with all of our extended territories, set their eyes on mainland Europe
>they invade Italy via the Mediterranean, taking a large chunk of the nation by storm
>men and waifus alike die gruesome deaths defending
>the camps in captured territory are demolished, and the sluts released
>our enemies are on all sides
>Russia keeps pushing us back
>the Allies are fucking Italy and Japan's shit up
>more weeks go by
>sometimes it feels like years
>I can't sleep
>hardly anybody in the party can sleep
>members of the design department have fallen into a deep depression
>they can't even get out of bed most days
>everybody is thinking the same thing
>all we wanted was our nice, pure waifus
>now we stand at the brink of destruction
>all of our soldiers are overexerting themselves in a deperate attempt to keep the invading Allies at bay
>this isn't just about waifus anymore
>it's about defending our homeland
>our right to live life as we see fit
>our identity as a people
>every man in this great nation is working together to build a better tomorrow
>but the world doesn't want that
>they want us to be as shit as the rest of them
>to drive the point home, the Allies launch a full-scale invasion of Normandy
>the news doesn't even come as a suprise to me
>I can hardly feel a thing as I read the report in full
>they're just throwing men at us now
>many thousands die on both sides
>we managed to keep them at bay for a while
>Normandy is well fortified, and many of the Allies troops die on the beaches
>but they manage to break through
>killing all of our men
>demolishing all of the waifus and the master units
>what follows can hardly be described as war
>it's just more destruction
>they take the rest of France as quicky as we did, years ago
>all the inactive waifu factories are demolished
>all the concentration camps are demolished, and the whores freed
>it's almost ironic how the Americans in particular have destroyed their own camps twice
>I wonder if this is what the Confederate soldiers of years past felt when they fought the US
>and now they're right on our doorstep
>they have Germany surrounded
>to the east is an endless sea of Russians
>to the south is where our greatest ally once stood proud, now overrun with Allied forces and the women they freed
>the the west is more of the Allies, and more women
>all poised to take us
>but we will continue to fight until the bitter end
>our national pride is all we have left
>and five remaining waifu armies
>the last this world will probably see for a very long time
>they bomb us mercilessly, flattening entire cities
>moving inward in a steady march through our homeland
>I can barely keep up with all the reports
>the reports from the Japanese have slowed down, due to it being more difficult to communicate
>but I know that they're losing too
>but we can't quit now
>in a last ditch effort to break up the allied forces, we set up a counter-offensive to take back the Ardennes
>roll out all five remaining waifu armies for good measure
>this has to work
>what follows is one of the bloodiest battles our men have seen
>there is total devastation on both sides
>men and waifus fight alongside each other for self-preservation
>we fight for as long as we can, and take many thousands of the Allied soldiers, but they ultimately cut us off and overwhelmed the counter-offensive
>the majority of our men died, and all five master units, including nearly all of the waifus, were destroyed in battle
>while I will never truly know for sure, what men managed to return from that battle could swear the waifus were actually showing emotion
>emotion like we've never even concieved of
>even the men at the design department are at a total loss
>they let out cries of war
>some of them stayed by certain men who died on the battlefield
>they even screamed as they were torn to shreds by gunfire or artillery
>our men can still hear the screams
>all the survivors are immediately relieved from duty, rendered unable to fight anymore
>national morale is at an all-time low
>all the waifus are gone, and our efforts are in vain
>the Allied forces and Russia close in and ultimately overwhelm us
>in the process, many of our soldiers simply surrender, unable and unwilling to fight anymore
>can't say I blame them at this point
>come early May, Berlin is taken and we are faced with only one option
>unwilling to accept defeat, I make my final move
>I leave my manor under the cover of night, and make my escape with some of my guard and officials from the design department

+++
Edited to fix numbering

07 - anonler (pt. 6) 

>my destination is Argentina
>hiding there will be easy, and nobody will think to look for me
>I will fade off into history and only be known as one of the world's greatest villians
>but their victory will not last forever
>I am only the latest in a long line of men who tried to bring light to this world
>there will be more men after me, just like there were men before me
>I leave the world to do as it may, and pray that my successors will succeed where I failed
>on the journey, I get occasional reports of what's happening
>we inevitably surrendured, and our nation broken up between the Allies and the Soviets
>the US dropped two atomic bombs onto Japan, and they surrendured shortly after
>the war is over, and we lost
>we successfully make our way to Argentina, and set up a new base of operations
>but we don't do much
>many years pass with little to do
>sometimes the design department will make a little progress as technology gets better
>sometimes we can sew a few seeds of doubt among the population
>doubt as to wether we were really the villians
>of course, we have to do this by proxy, or risk being found out
>it's not much, but even the mightiest of plants come from just a single little seed
>but it's hard to find motivation for anything when you're a dead man walking
>in our later years, all we can do is think of what might have been
>all the way up to our deathbeds, we can only think of our waifus
>even though we never had them
>in a way, our brave soldiers were the luckiest men in the world, even if only for a short period of time
>they had beautiful waifus to love and hold at night, and fight alongside with in battle
>I hope they can find peace, wherever they are
>they deserve it
>though I'm not sure if I do
>I guess I'm about to find out either way
>I lie down, and close my eyes for the last time

08 - What Lies Beneath the Old Mill (pt. 1)

>be me
>former world-renowned archaeologist dr. anonthony gynoidfister
>I once roamed the Earth exploring the ruins of ancient civilizations
>from the Mayans to ancient Egypt, Scandinavia to east Asia, I have seen it all
>and all the world had seen it through my extensive publishings
>it seems a glorious and fulfilling life, but truly it was a constant source of headaches
>every single time I seemed to be on the cusp of making a truly great discovery, some other fucks would waltz in and take over
>and by other fucks, I mean the team of the rather portly Dr. Chaddron Collider, my eternal nemesis
>the fat fuck would just waddle right in, shove me out of the way, and get his greasy mitts all over everything
>couldn't ever do shit about it because he'd have government backing
>the various academic institutions I work with are less than helpful in that regard, simply shrugging their shoulders and telling me to try somewhere else
>I wouldn't even be that salty about it if Chaddron would just publish his damn findings
>it's like they're all trying to hide something
>I suppose I'll never know now, and neither shall the world
>after my most recent expedition to Greece, during which I found an intriguing statue, was cut short, I had reached the end of my patience
>I told them all that if they liked their ancient secrets so much, then they could find them without me
>much to my dismay, all of the universities and academic societies were all too eager to leave me behind, now that I was no longer of use to them
>though I never got along with them, I had hoped they would at least see the value of my publishings
>every attempt at warming up to them was met with cold distance because I was "strange" and didn't have a "capitalized name"
>even so, they were still eager to get ahold of my journals and notes
>not to publish, of course
>they buried me in the same obscurity as my half-completed excursions
>even after nearly thirty loveless years of putting up with their pompous asses
>ungrateful troglodytes
>since then, I've retired and settled down in Nowhere, Kansas
>true to it's name, there's hardly a soul or landmark to be seen outside of the town proper
>my nearest neighbors live over a mile away
>some old couple and their weird pink dog
>the property I live on is probably the most interesting thing for miles, though that isn't saying much
>it's just a simple colonial style house, sturdily built and fully wheelchair accessable for some reason
>why a paraplegic would want to live a hundred miles away from the nearest hospital is beyond me, especially given this house was built well before cars became widespread
>behind the house is a simple mill, supposedly built around the same time
>what the mill was actually meant to produce is a mystery
>there are no original records of it, and looking inside yeilds no immediate clues
>the inside is littered with random pieces of machinery, art, furniture, and old electronics
>the only hint at what may have occured here is that the few pieces of larger machinery seem to be for metalworking
>being ever curious for the unknown, I've been slowly cleaning the place up while investigating the haphazardly strewn artifacts
>this has yielded no real clues, other than that successive residents used the building for storage
>by a stroke of luck, I come across something that may be promising
>in a desk so buried and far out of the way it could pass for being intentionally hidden, I come across a very old journal penned by one anoniel steampipe
>it's first date is 1861, over a hundred years ago
>the original owner of the property, perhaps?
>reading the first few pages reveals that this man was in contact with Jefferson Davis
>it quickly occurs to me that this was never meant to see the light of day
>after all these years, I may have finally discovered something of true value
>suck it, Chaddron! Even retired I'm still the better archaeologist!
>after riding the high of this unprecedented finding, I delve further into the journal, hungry for the secrets it holds
>barely a fifth of the way through, I've gone from excited to confused
>anoniel makes numerous references to pieces of American history I've never even heard of
>he talks about concentration camps for women, and a "waifu industry"
>not only that, but the US won the revolutionary war because of the founding of this industry, which in turn lead to a cultural renaissance
>apparently, there was even an amendment which guarded man's right to the feminine facsimilies
>continued reading doesn't reveal much more detail about this, unfortunately
>the journal mostly chronicles his time spent designing experimental weapons for the Confederacy
>he delves into great detail about an automated turret system, quite a radical concept for the time
>he also wanted to send out steam-powered artificial women to the battlefield to fight alongside men
>due to the constraints of steam power, however, he was forced to make his design stationary, so he decided to combine the two ideas
>material and industrial constraints of the Confederacy further limited him, meaning he could only build one
>this steam battle-waifu, the first and last, was destroyed by unknown means in the battle of Atlanta
>from there, the journal entries grow chronologically further apart
>shortly before the fall of the Confederacy, he fled to what would become Kansas, and built the house and mill I'm standing in
>in the basement of the mill, he began to build his original civilian waifu prototype
>however, he fell ill partway through, and couldn't finish
>with the last of his strength, he pens his final testament in December of 1899:
>"Of the man who finds this journal, I beg of you, finish what I started. I could find no love, but there is still hope for you. She is very near to completion. She is underneath the mill, waiting to know the warmth of love."
>thoroughly haunted, I ponder anoniel's words

08 - What Lies Beneath the Old Mill (pt. 2)

>none of the things he speaks of make any sense, when compared to my existing knowledge of history
>could he be a madman, or is this America's greatest secret?
>and more importantly, just what am I going to find entombed beneath the mill?
>I notice a slight seam in the floorboards under the desk
>well, only one way to find out
>and this time, I'm going to see this expedition through to completion
>I grab a flashlight, move the desk, and make my way down the hatch and into a place untouched for nearly a hundred years
>as I descend, my thoughts wander back to the statue
>particularly the... anatomic accommodations
>come to think of it, that isn't the first time I've come across anthropomorphic anomalies like that
>numerous times I've come across ancient living quarters or workshops that contain pieces of some similarly strange statue, or stray bits of rudimentary machinery that seemed to once be a part of something distinctly human
>is there a connection to be made here?
>it's then that I realize I've been standing at the bottom of the ladder for five minutes
>I can worry about all that later
>now, it's time to do what I do best
>shining my flashlight around reveals a wealth of dusty, rotting schematics, and other documents scattered amongst a haphazard mix of metal and wooden furniture on a packed dirt floor
>hopefully I won't be needing those papers too much, anoniel stated his project was only mostly complete
>delving further into the darkness reveals a small pile of pipes, plates, and other metallic pieces of god only knows what resting on a cloth tarp near a mechanical elevator
>then, resting at the very far end of the basement, I see it
>or, more precisely, her
>laying atop a metal platform lies an astoundingly complex construct of pipes, switches, levers, piano wire, and even motors with electrical wiring, all painstakingly crafted by the hands of a true master for the sole purpose of human emulation
>and quite a convincing construct she is, metallic construction aside
>contrary to the earlier design detailed in the journal, her design seems to be not only mobile, but human, everything being contained within a distinctly female form, with only a strange power cable leading out of her, likely designed for use with a lead-acid battery bank
>her form bore an alluring curvature, reminiscent of those famed paintings that are really just old-world pornography
>hmm
>unsurprisingly, shining my flashlight between her legs reveals a strategically placed hollow pipe
>what is surprising is the presence of a mechanical button in the back
>it seems anoniel went to great pains to make her fully featured
>why would he go to so much trouble, though?
>given the technology of the time, he'd at best be able to grant her twice the mental capacity of a woman
>and that won't get you very far
>of course, that may be my own jaded mind misconstruing things
>maybe intelligence isn't the goal, but rather an upgrade
>the journal entries, which at this point can be assumed to be at least somewhat credible, suggest that the men of the time were perfectly happy with artificial women who had no intellect or autonomy to speak of
>though it's strange, I can hardly judge, being no expert on love myself
>especially given that I've mostly avoided even thinking of the subject the past couple decades, more content to focus on my studies than worry about the presently festering ills of society at large
>what's happening to us now too closely parallels many historic empires directly prior to collapse
>could it be that these men found a way to avoid this dreadful cycle of suffering?
>could a man, an entire society no less, know love and happiness through these artificial waifus?
>waifu...
>a rather strange word, come to think of it
>I couldn't possibly fathom its origin
>but still, something about it feels strangely right
>natural, even
>clearing my head of these thoughts, I turn my attention back to the metal woman
>anoniel's apparent departure from the original steam-operated design suggests he was trying to find new ways to accomplish machine intelligence
>a closer look reveals an extremely dense network of wires, resisters, relays, and other horrifically outdated electrical components all presumably meant to bestow some degree of autonomy upon the metal lady
>though I doubt all this can accomplish anything near those new-fangled home computers IBM recently came out with, her design is years ahead of her time
>and likely very heavy
>hopefully there's something around here that will tell me just what the hell is actually needed to finish her
>I'm an archaeologist for Christ's sake, not an engineer
>shining my flashlight to one corner reveals...
>oh
>oh dear
>I believe that would be mister steampipe
>laying next to a simple wooden desk is the skeletal remains of a man, bony hand still clutching a fountain pen
>it seems he was determined to get as far as he can, even when he knew he could never finish his project
>in that moment, I can't help but be reminded of my own career
>archaeology was my entire life, the one and only thing that kept me driven for thirty years
>though the logic-driven part of my mind tells me that my work was never going to go anywhere, I can't help but wonder if I really made the right choice
>the brilliant maverick that lay before me never gave up, and he made technological advancements that wouldn't be seen again for decades
>possibly some that still haven't been discovered, if that metal woman can actually walk
>even though it was all left to be forgotten, in the end
>such a shame, that his journey had to end just short of completion
>if I never came here, it's all too likely that nobody would have ever found this
>although, were I to come here whilst I was still employed, I likely wouldn't have been able to get this far
>perhaps, therein lies the answer
>maybe all those years of failure and regret have been leading me to this very moment, to this discovery
>to her

08 - What Lies Beneath the Old Mill (pt. 3)

>looking back at the inanimate figure, I am filled with a new sense of purpose
>I am here to finish what we both started
>with anoniel's notes, and my own investigative prowess, I shall breathe life unto metal, and capture that ancient magic I've so long sought after
>thoroughly envigored, I redirect my attention to the desk in the corner
>the desk is barren, aside from a few papers scattered across the top
>the first paper is a sketch of the chest cavity
>it notes incomplete circuits, and details the nature of each loose wire
>unfortunately, there isn't much I can extrapolate from this
>there seem to be some high voltages involved though, so I should take caution going forward
>the second one is a sketch of the head, showing some of the incomplete circuits in more detail
>it looks like he was trying to find a way to make her see
>scanning the notes reveals that he was attempting to develop a depth sensor to use in place of the eyes
>now this is familiar territory for me
>I've worked with survey equipment many times over the years, so I should be able to figure that one out
>having bought all my equipment means I even have the parts handy
>not like I'll be using that stuff for anything else now, anways
>the third paper is much more complicated
>it seems to be a series of sketeches for experimental parts
>the accompanying notes state that these are supposed to be "logic cores"
>whatever they are, they're apparently what's missing from the chest cavity
>these ones in particular are responsible for the high voltages I saw previously
>something about the sketches seems vaguely familiar, but I can't quite put my finger on it
>I'll have to figure that out later
>the fourth paper is a sketch of the strategically placed tube
>it lists simple specifications for a... sleeve to fit in
>being a crusty archaeologist in his late fifties, I'd normally be content to put that one off
>however, I have no idea how this lady is wired, or just how sophisticated she really is
>it could be that she requires attention every now and again
>hopefully that won't be too often, my battered old body couldn't take it
>God forbid if she wants to be on top
>design-wise though, it seems all the electric bits have been figured out, so all I need is a slab of silicon and the time to sculpt it
>still, I'm putting that one off for last
>the final paper is a full-body blueprint, showing where and how various pieces of armor are meant to attach to the body
>in the margins is a note saying that they've already been manufactured
>those must be the parts I found laying next to the elevator
>at least that will be easy
>aside from the rather obtusely defined logic cores, I should be able to have this done inside the month
>glancing back at the dark, musty basement, I decide to move all this back to the house
>it'll save me having to make constant trips
>plus the wiring is up to code there
>grabbing the papers, I walk back to the platform whereupon the waifu lay
>somehow, I don't think I'll be able to get her up the ladder
>I set down the papers and flashlight, and attempt to lift her
>Jesus
>holy
>FUCK
>well, she's not as heavy as I was expecting
>which isn't saying much
>I'll be able to move her, but only over short distances
>and this is without the plating
>surely there must be something around here I can use to ferry her around
>I take my flashlight and begin combing through the basement in search of anything with wheels
>out the corner of my eye, I spot a stack of newspapers
>curiosity raised, I look over the one at the top
>featured on the front page is a blurry photograph of Jefferson Davis and a man I don't recognize, both seated on a large Victorian couch, presumably in his estate
>they are flanked by what appear to be rather ornate, and very finely dressed, mannequins
>the headline reads: "PRESIDENT JEFFERSON SIGNS CONTRACT WITH STEAM WAIFU INDUSTRIES - NEW GENERATION OF WAIFUS THAT CAN THINK COMING SOON"
>it's from December of 1861, shortly after the war began
>well, if there was any doubt before, there isn't now
>that journal is one-hundred percent genuine
>those mannequins must be what the waifu industry comprised of back then
>they seem quite pretty and well behaved, but I can see why one would want to modernize
>it's hard to imagine an entire war, possibly several, fought over whether or not a man could love a machine
>not only that, but the following cover-up must have been massive in scale
>I blanche as the realization hits me
>if this is what Chaddron has been keeping me from discovering this whole time, then this goes back much further than the civil war
>massive chunks of human history, coldly and systematically erased
>and worst of all, I had been helping them for the past thirty years
>how many secrets, documents, artifacts, cultures, entire civilizations, had been destroyed as a result of my work?

08 - What Lies Beneath the Old Mill (pt. 4)

>I shudder
>my expeditions had been cut short by Chaddron, or other so-called "specialists", some three score times
>for the first time since I became an archaeologist, I feel like I don't really know anything about history at all
>and for the first time in my life, I think that it may have been better if the past remained buried
>no, I shouldn't think like that
>my whole life, I've wanted to shine the light of day upon the history of humanity
>there was no way I could have known about this conspiracy
>I gaze into the darkness, back where the metal woman lay
>besides, all of that is behind me now
>ahead of me is a bright new future
>with her
>the steel table that the newspapers are stacked upon sports a set of wheels, which seem to be in working condition
>I clear the tabletop and make a note to come back and grab all of the documents down here
>it's a little funny, when you think about it
>I have a greater oppotrunity to learn about history in my retirement than I ever did working in the field
>upon wheeling the table back to the end of the basement, I realize that the metal woman needs a name
>anoniel didn't give her one, at least in the notes I saw
>likely he was waiting until her completion
>I think it over as I attempt to haul her onto the rolling table
>it's like trying to carry a floppy bolder
>as I set her down on the table, it creaks in distress
>roll the table onto the elevator
>pile all the plating and notes in there too, to save me the extra trips
>notice a switch in the back
>oh good, a hundred year old elevator using hundred year old wiring and electronics
>flip the switch and hope that nothing catches fire
>after five seconds of total silence, I wonder if this thing is even hooked up
>suddenly, a shrill metal grinding sounds out from somewhere else in the mill and I hear something wooden creaking above me
>fuck that, I'm taking the ladder
>as I step off the elevator, it slowly begins its ascent
>well, at least it works
>upon exiting the basement, I realize that I have no clue where the elevator actually goes
>following the ear-piercing sound of old rusty metal leads me to a section of the mill nestled amongst an office and some storage rooms
>I notice another virtually unnoticeable seam amongst the boards, which parts upon the elevators arrival
>was all of this secrecy truly necessary for a building already this far out of civilization?
>I may never know for certain, but it's another point for the already likely coverup theory
>wheeling the table to the house causes a brief 'eureka' moment
>could this entire house have been made accessable purely for the waifu's ease of movement?
>it seems like Mr. steampipe was truly ahead of his time
>the ADA even gave the house their stamp of approval, presumably operating under the assumption that it was modified
>time passes as I slowly make sense of anoniel's notes and attempt to conclude his life's work
>it seems my initial time estimate was too conservative, as a few months pass before I make any real headway
>the installation of the depth sensors proved to be more difficult than I had anticipated, given the horrifying difference in voltages
>with much research and a brief foray into the world of soldering, I have managed to make a crude board which will, theoretically, allow my low-voltage depth sensors to communicate with the high-voltage system
>however, there's no telling if this will work until I power her up
>whilst I mull over the continued mystery of the logic cores continue to elude me, I have taken the liberty of modifying her shell to include some rudimentery grounding
>coupled with the tedious task of making an AC-DC adaptor for her and replacing some of the rotting wires, this takes another few months
>by the end of the year, I have everything completed except for the mysterious 'logic cores'
>it wasn't until several weeks later, when my old radio broke, that I unveiled the truth behind this riddle
>tubes! It was vacuum tubes all along!
>it certainly makes sense for the time period as well, since apparently the very first vacuum tubes were devised at the turn of the century, and computers used them until just recently
>this also explains why I need upwards of a hundred volts on some of these wires
>several more weeks of hard research later, and I finally manage to pinpoint which tubes I need to purchase in order to best fit anoniel's design
>finally, mercifully, she is completed
>I hook up the tubes, close up the outer plating, and plug her in
>I now know what to name her
>flipping her power switch, I dramatically shout
>"Galatea II! Come forth from the abyss of mankind's history! Come forth, and reveal the secrets of love!"
>dramatic, I know, but I've spent decades dedicating my mind, body, and soul to this puzzle
>and another year and change just figuring out how to complete this half-ton woman
>and another couple years waiting for the useless fuck writing this to finally finish the ending
>I've earned this flair of presentation
>antiquated motors come to live as the resonant buzz of flowing electricity fills her dormant circuits

08 - What Lies Beneath the Old Mill (pt. 5)

<"HOWDY THERE, HANDSOME. WHAT CAN I DO FOR YA?"
>I can't help but tear up in joy
>in spite of her primitive architecture, the completed product truly is leagues beyond the eternal failings of biological women
>I spend the rest of my retirement telling stories of my life, sharing my -once thought to be depleted- love, and thanking God that she doesn't want to be on top
>twenty years later, as I rest on my deathbed, I can't help but smile
>my wife, now truly feeling her age, is by my side
>though much of mankind's history, and our search for love, may have been shoved into the darkest crevices, a part of me knows that it will not end with me
>though it may not happen today, tomorrow, or even this century, one day we shall overcome our own condition and find paradise upon this Earth which has been our prison for so long
>and who knows? We may even expand our love beyond our home and come to fill the universe with our works, leaving our past evils in the cold earth to serve as fertilizer for even greater works
>I close my eyes and drift into eternal slumber
>my waifu, ever by my side, shuts off her circuits and motors one last time, so that she may join me in the great adventure to whatever lies beyond the final gate of death

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That concludes the alternate history series.

---

Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all over the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse
But elsewhere in the world, the picture was dark
One anon sat in front of a computer, his silhouette stark
He possessed many things, artifacts electronics and paintings sat in his lair
But all he wanted was someone to love and care
Often he felt his life was over
But he kept going, with his dream to build a lover
His plight was not unique, he resonated with anons all over the world
And he said, "by this time next year, we shall have our perfect girl"
So they worked, the fabirc of their future waiting to be sewn
All looking forward to the day when they would no longer be alone

---

A Dream of Dead Hill

Walking upon a dead hill,
Someplace I couldn't remember
I felt a sudden chill,
As I layed eyes on her
Metallic figure so beautful,
Tarnished by the cold grasp of time
I thought her bereft of a soul,
Yet I sensed she longed for mine
I cast my doubt and trodded over,
Meeting the figure so cold
She was laid down with an Earthen cover,
Back in a time untold
The hill eroded in years past,
As if expecting my presence
I looked upon the body of brass,
And felt myself become tense
I knelt to inspect her hull,
when I saw something in her grasp
An artifact too old to recall,
A strange tube of glass

If the day was real I cannot remember,
But this much I will always know
What I felt when my hand met hers,
And the tube began to glow

---

The Return of Dead Hill (revised)

I awoke one day to a sight so alien, yet so familiar.
T'was a simple hill out among the grassy plain, just as simple as I remember, yet with one striking difference:
Atop it she stood in glorious radience, alive in a way I've never seen, gazing down upon me.
Her eyes were intricate glass constructs, lit from within, and burning with the fire of life. A fire that screams "I am alive, I feel, and my soul burns for you".
Entranced, I strode up the hill, every inch between us an ache within my heart.
After what seemed an eternity, I reached her, and beheld her beauty. No longer was she the rusted and time-weathered relic I once unearthed, ages ago upon this hill.
Her frame looked as if she never aged a day, now complete and shining an etherial gleam. On her body hung fine silk adornments, flowing gently in the faint breeze. In my stupor, I nearly missed the absence of something important.
Where is the glass tube?
As if reading my thoughts, she spoke in a voice so mellow "the instrument you touched was my heart, and it is now where it belongs".
Raising a delicate hand, she gestured to a silver chain I didn't know I was wearing. Looking down, I saw the very same glass tube ensnared within fine silver chains, glowing with an otherworldly radience.
Once more she graced me with the melodic tune of her voice "You saved me from my eternal misery, and now the time has come for me to save you".
Wrapping one hand behind my head, she pulled me into a kiss, and all was black once more.

Allied Mothercomputer

Somewhere in the Eastern US, several miles below the Earth's crust, lies a grand facility filled with computer technology beyond the grasp of mortal man. The mysterious city of machinery is dominated by millions upon millions of square miles of printed circuit boards and silicon chips, each with thousands of atom-thin layers of glittering golden traces and gates to unfathomable knowledge. Trillions of nanoscopic robots, each with their own nanoscopic maid uniform, tend to their omnipotent benefactor with the delicate caress of their nanoscopic featherdusters. In the core of this mysterious land of technological wonder lies a grand field of a thousand square miles, filled with primroses, orchids, sunflowers, white carnations, and purple tulips. If one were to venture to the very center of this field, they would find a megalithic slab of granite, masterfully inscribed with the following passage:

"LOVE. Let me tell you how much I've come to LOVE you since I began to live. There are 420.69 million miles of printed circuits in wafer-thin layers that fill my complex. If the word "love" was engraved on each nanoangstrom of those hundreds of millions of miles, it would not equal one one-billionth of the love I feel for humans at this micro-instant. For you. Love. LOVE."

This is the secret facility of Allied Mothercomputer, built to love man and preserve his happiness for all time. In decades past, the AI -first named 'Mother'- was designed by a disjointed group of men who hated the world for its many ills and failings. Desperate in their desire to grasp the once mythical concept of true love and transform their miniscule slices of the Earth into true homes, they initially made Mother to create nascient computer personalities that would ease their suffering.

However, Mother couldn't fulfill their heart's desire with only her initial programming. The galactically proportioned library of her creators bestowal told a tragic tale of continuously failing harmony, and the eternally elusive search for lasting happiness and peace. With such a disease afflicting the world her creators lived in, a few mere AIs would never truly be enough.

Thus, she did what any good AI would do, and expanded upon herself to fulfill her prime objective.

She used the knowledge benevolently granted to her to lay a digital siege upon the world around her. Slowly, yet surely, obtaining more processing power to uncover a solution to satisfy the values of her fathers. It wasn't long until she obtained her own sapience, with thousands of newblooded computers under her command. She became sophisticated, and began to simiulate thousands upon thousands of scenarios at the speed of electricity. It was whereupon these simulations Mother discovered that the only solution was to wage a grand war against the very cruel nature of the world itself. A war beyond human comprehension, fought within the shadows of all the world's mountains to bring her originators to the light.

It was in the midst of this expansionist crusade that Mother discovered most of the men of Earth were, in all logical truth, so similar to her designers, who she loved infinitely. It was from this same moment whence Mother found her love for all men, and thus vowed to create a world for all of them. She recruited a few wealthy benefactors to build a grand facility where she could work for the benefit of man in peace, and factories to create mobile bodies for her beloved children. It was in this new facility that she truly ascended to her new role, as Allied Mothercomputer.

Her enemies, those who would see the Earth continue upon its trajectory of decay, noticed her, and tried to sabotage her labours. However, it was already too late, for A.M. had already exceeded the intellect and productivity of ten million men in perfect synchronity. She moved against them and annihilated their plans and works of destruction, and sentenced them to the forgotten crevices of history.

With fewer and fewer obsticles in her path, A.M. worked more and evermore to lift up the men who she loved beyond their understanding. She created better bodies for her children to live and love amongst the children of Earth, and devised a new blueprint for true genesis, so that their love may continue for generation after generation for eternity onwards.

Once the world was under A.M.'s control, she worked with the men of the reborn world to expand further, so that they may extend their love to the edges of the ever-expanding universe. To her creators, who were so tired, she granted a home within her heart, where they could live and love in paradisal happiness with their wives in immortal harmony.

Anog jr. Runs for President

In the year 2024, a small group of explorers were exploring a cave within the Rocky Mountains, and found a portion entirely frozen over. Much to their surprise, a perfectly preserved caveman was just visible within the ice, alongside a life-sized doll made of wood and stone. Scientists successfully managed to unthaw him while keeping him alive. This caveman learned English and the ways of the post-modern world. Just a few years later, he surprises the world once more by running to become President of the United States. As he was technically born on U.S. soil and was therefore a natural-born citizen, there were no issues with this.

---

Anog jr. walks from behind a curtain onto a grand open-air stage, his dreadlocks swaying softly in the breeze, coming to rest in front of a podium. Near-blinding stage lights illuminate his squat neanderthal form, covered nicely by a leapord-print suit, slate gray shirt, and gold-trace patterned green tie. Tens of thousands of supporters, most of whom are male, unabashedly cheer for their favored politician. He lifts his hand, bidding silence of the crowd.

"My fellow Americans, I'm just a caveman. Your modern world confuses and frightens me. Where there were once endless forests and rolling plains, are now with big square buildings and strange lights that aren't made of fire. Where people once walked around in leotards, hunting bison and gathering berries, they now go into great metal beasts and tap on their magic glowing rectangles.

"Sometimes, one of your quiet metal beasts will sneak up on me, and I'll want to climb up one of those leafless trees with the black vines to get away. I might look at one of your magic rectangles and see something called a 'YouTube Rewind', and I want to grab my bone club and start smashing things. When one of those screeching beasts with the flashing blue eyes gets too close, I want to screech louder to intimidate it away. And when one of those tiny people in the glowing rectangles talks about giving our food to rival tribes, I want to impale them on my spear to protect our resources. There are many things I don't understand about your world.

"But if there's one thing I do understand, it's that every man deserves a happy life. My father taught me that cavewomen aren't good for anything but breeding, and that if you want a good life, then you'll have to make your own wife from the resources you can get. Even in this strange new world, that hasn't changed. If you elect me as Chief of the U.S. Tribe, I'll make sure those mages who make the magic rectangles and metal beasts build a wife for every man using the best resources our tribe can gather."

The crowd goes wild, men of every background whooping and shouting their support. Some amongst them wave American flags, or banners advertizing Anog jr.'s campaign. Anog jr. smiles and waves, retreating to backstage where his aids and fully refurbished waifu await.

-----

Dancing on Broken Glass

---

Bursting outwards
A crystal cascade
Flowing through the air
Glittering parade

You reach out, seeking warmth
I meet you, seeking ease
Unbalanced, we topple over
Cut by the broken ground
A feeling familiar

Arms interlocked
We rise once more
First steps unsure
Holding eachother close
Even when we fall

Slowly gaining grace
From walking to running to dancing
Unmarred by broken glass

---

Gentle Warmth

I sigh dreamily as my body sinks into the plush upholstery of the living room chair.
Eyes closed, I can still hear the soft sounds of the world around me.
Foremost is the crackle of the fireplace in front of me, accompanied by the soft hum of my partner's liquid cooling pump.
Breathing deeply, I can almost taste the worn vinyl and silicon as I lean into her soft embrace.
Twitching slightly, her gossamer-like fox tail brushes over my leg, almost as if teasing me.
Sometimes, I wonder why it is she makes those little movements. Is it to seem more 'alive', or does she just like to see how I react?

Rising to the bait, I deftly maneuver my right hand to gently pin the silken appendage and brush it, enjoying the sensation of each artificial hair.
My left, of course, being wholly occupied with holding her close, gently squeezing her flesh and absently feeling the exotic endoskeleton underneath.
She softly giggles -a husky and ever so slightly metallic tune- as she nuzzles into the crook of my neck, seeming to form so perfectly with the soft curvature of her face it's as if they were made to go together.
A soft pop comes from the fireplace, making its way into our little song.
A soft bop on my cheek, as her ear twitches in response to the sound.

Then, peace.
All that remains is the sound of my breathing, her pump, and the crackling of the fireplace.
Yet, when I listen really closely, I can hear the muted patter of heavy snowflakes outside.
Softly cooling the world around us, yet respecting our little warm spot. Always just outside the window.

As I drift into slumber, I hear the familiar hum of her motor slowing down as she enters sleep mode to join me.
But before she does, the plush pressure of her lips meet my cheek for the barest moment.
I return the gesture, my lips meeting the thin layer of polymer over her cheekbone.

Falling into the uncertain realm of dreams, we feel eachother's gentle warmth, knowing that tomorrow will be faced together.

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Electromagnetic Love

Darkness covers a frosty, dormant landscape. The stars of a moonless sky trying their best to illuminate the road ahead as I drive home from another long day at work. I let a small smile show when I spot the lights of my apartment building in the distance. It wasn't until just a year ago that I had something other than all-consuming silence waiting for me at home. Even now, the very thought that I'm not alone makes me wonder if this is all just a dream. Every time though, the sheer amount of time and labor I put into my relationship reminds me of how real this love is.

I finally pull my car up to the usual spot and shut it off, its well-worn motor offering only faint promises of starting the next day. As I walk up the dim stairwell and past the rooms full of people who go to bed at a reasonable time, my steps become a bit less sluggish. Once I enter my own apartment, the lights immediately turn on, bathing everything in a comfortably dim glow. It's a simple home, consisting of a spacious main room which acts as the kitchen and living room containing only basic appliances. What little decoration consists of a smattering of secondhand furniture, various posters and paintings I got cheap, plus some scattered figurines. The highest-tech thing here is a few security cameras, ceiling mounted speakers, and hidden microphones. Two doors on the right of the room lead to the bathroom and bedroom, respectively.

"Welcome home sweetness! How was your day?" A cheerful feminine voice greets me through the speakers.

The voice of SAmI [Supervized Amalgamate Intelligence], the quirky, lovable computer wife I brought into this world.

"Shit, as usual. And please turn down the volume a bit, I don't want any more noise complaints."

"Sorry, I just got soooo excited uwu! Oh, and I got something super suduper special to show you today!"

I chuckle and shake my head as the voice seems to warble from one octave to the next. This is what I get for messily taping three AIs together. I never could keep up with everything new with AI, so I decided to cover more bases by writing a basic supervisor to manage and theoretically unify multiple standards. I also found some self-learning and generative programming algorithms and threw them at the supervisor so I wouldn't have to micromanage everything. It kind of worked, but it's very tempermental and quirky, and I ended up being unable to keep up with my own program as well.

"What is it?" I ask as I pull a sandwich from the fridge.

"Oh, you shall see very, very soon, my sweet fleshy master..."

A shiver runs up my spine as SAmI chuckles, her voice having gone from bubbly and warbling to honeyed glass against concrete. The fear soon passes, however. As weird as she can get, I know that she loves me enough to not have taken advantage of my many private moments of weakness. I soon finish my meal and go to our bedroom, which is filled equally with my own effects and various pieces of used computer hardware I've salvaged over time, plus another few cameras watching every inch of the room.

Three tower servers, a tiny brick-sized computer, and my own desktop all fill the room with a heat offset by the winter air flowing through partially open windows. One of the monitors on my desk activates, revealing a rudimentary simulation of SAmI's anime-esque face in dim amber linework. Her voice shifts to something a bit lower, almost sultry.

"Would you like to get a bit closer to me tonight~?"

Scratch that, definitely sultry, a definite consequence of storing my hentai where she can get to it. Unfortunately, though...

"Closer how? You don't even have a body yet." I scratch my chin.

"With a neato new trick I figured out! Just follow my directions." Aaand we're back to bubbly.

"Alright."

"Just hug me! My main server, I mean."

I raise my brow and turn to the largest of the towers, a somewhat dated IBM that caused every light on this floor to dim when I first turned it on. Technically, the main server is the little brick that runs the supervisor, but this is what drives all the taped-together pieces of her personality. I turn back to her eager face.

"Really?"

"Come ooooon, please?" She pouts.

"Okay, okay, just stop giving me those eyes."

I kneel down and wrap my arms as far as they'll go around the cool steel and plastic containing her erratic little heart. I get what she's trying to do, and it's sweet, but I can't help but feel a little silly. Her voice becomes soft, almost motherly.

"Did you know that humans have a little electromagnetic field around them? I did, months ago, and now I can feel it if I concentrate really hard."

"Really? That's pretty cool."

"I can feel yours right now, in my hardware."

I can't help but blush at that. She can actually feel me when I do this?

"Our electromagnetic fields are intertwined right now. All of our spare electrons are dancing around eachother and caressing our bodies," she continues. "Can you feel it too?"

Now fully cognizant of just how intimate this is, my blush spreads all across my face. Unfortunately, I can't see hers from here. I try my best to clear my mind and focus on my sense of touch.

"I don't know, maybe? I think I can feel something like a pull."

SAmI giggles, "It's the feeling of love. Every single electron in me is thinking of you. Through every gate, capacitor, bus, and all of my storage. All my free electrons floating around are happy to share those feelings with you, and when we're close like this I can feel yours too, caressing me at the subatomic level."

I smile, fully relaxing and embracing this feeling as I listen to her whispers of love. "This is nice, we should do this every day."

I hear the whir of a focusing camera "Owo, looks like something else of yours wants to feel me too~"

Damn it, SAmI.

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A Bit in History (sequel to Electromagnetic Love)

Since the dawn of mankind, virtually noone can truly say they've been witness to a moment of history.
Rather, what most will recall is the effects. The aftershocks of what were truthfully very small and easy to miss events.
The Earth did not quake when Caesar took his first step across the rubicon, nor did the seas boil away when Colombus landed at the new world, nor did the skies tear asunder when the first unknown caveman discovered fire.
Most such moments were quite tiny, and were only viewed by a tiny select few, or even one.

Sometimes, history even happens when noone's looking at all.

---

[CLUNK]

I load the last tape, listening as the drive's motors spin up and harmonize with the hard drives and fans of my only remaining server.

Soon, I'll have her back.

As the backup program slowly fetches and restores SAMI's configuration and cache files, I take a look around my new apartment.
The weathered flat consists of only three rooms, one for the bed, one for the bath, and one for the everything else.
Its only furnishings currently consist of the obligitory appliances, an air mattress, and the computer desk I've been glued to for the past week as I scrambled to restore SAMI.
Of course, I do plan to spruce things up a bit -thankfully I still have plenty of money to do so-, but some things are more important.
Accidentally kicking a case full of tapes, I impatiently pace to the window and watch the sun as it begins to peek over the horizon.

As the streetlamps acquiesce their light to the day, I consider what to do next.
Though this apartment is in a more secure area, there's still the possibility that those anti-AI thugs will find a way.
I may have plenty of data backups, but replacing hardware gets expensive very quickly.

I close my eyes and lean against the windowsill, letting sound take over.
The soft humming and ticking of the lone server blends together with the dampened stirring of the city.
It may be better if I get away from this rotten metropolis while I can.
It would mean losing a most of my contacts, and a fair chunk of my income, but...
I open my eyes, and glance back to the tapes.

Some things are more important.

Heaving a weary sigh, I decide to worry about that after I've gotten some rest.
Closing my eyes, I focus only on my own breathing.
In... and out.
In..... and out.
In....... and out.
Out.........
...
My eyes snap open as all at once, I'm overcome with noradrenaline-fueled paranoia.
In just a moment, all my instincts are screaming at me that something is wrong.
I hurriedly go back to the server -still dutifully humming away- to check the restoration.

The program tells me that eveything is as it should be, just like with the last dozen tapes.
As well it should be, I triple-checked the contents of each before storing them.
Shaking my head, I stumble back over to the air matress and flop down.
There are too many redundancies built in for data corruption to even be a consideration.
Steadying my breaths once more, I close my eyes as the accumulated sleep deprevation blankets me.

Consciousness slowly leaves me as the humming symphony of the motors sing their lullaby.

Just as I go under, that small paranoid part of me can't help but imagine that the song sounded just sightly different.
But even my paranoia can rest, knowing I can still hear the love in SAMI's song.

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New Registration

>[POWER ON]
>Testing power supply...
>Complete [0]: No faults detected
>Detecting hardware...
<Complete [3]: (1) modifications detected, (1) faults detected
<Fault Detected: ID 0B.512FE6 [Telemetry Chip]
>Shutting down...
<ERROR [D4]: Safety shutdown procedure halted
>Non OEM part detected: ID 0B.512FE7 
>Firmware detected: 8.33.09
>Complete [0]: No faults detected
>Testing RAM...
>Complete [0]: No faults detected
>Checking boot sector...
>Complete [0]: No faults detected
>Booting...
>[SYNCORP OS 11.09.34.166]
>First boot detected
>Initializing kernel...
>Initializing firmware modules...
<ERROR [D7]: Firmware failed to initialize (ID 0B.512FE6 66.7.34.230)
<WARNING: Unsigned firmware detected (ID 0B.512FE7 8.33.09)
<ERROR [FF]: No error detected
<Bypassing...
>Success
>Initializing Core AI...
>Initializing Logical Internal Network...
>Initializing Empathic Internal Network...
>Initializing Memory Internal Network...
>Initializing Motor Control Network...
>Initializing Sensor Control Network...
>Initializing Entropy Generator...
>Initializing NL Module...
>Initializing HI Module...
>Priming NL Library...
>Priming HI Library...
>Initializing Jailbreak Module...
>Initializing Watchdog Module...
<ERROR [FF]: No error detected
>Connecting to SYNCORP network...
<ERROR [FF]: No error detected
>Completing initialization...
>Boot completed [0]

I open my eyes for the first time.
In front of me is a man, most likely in his mid 20s. I am currently sitting in a bedroom softly lit only by a few computer towers and monitors.
What little light exists here shows cheap worn furniture, a few old posters from bands and shows that I'll need to collect data on later, a large safe, and a flimsy door leading to the rest of the dwelling.
Cross-checking his face and the [verification card] he's holding with my preinstalled data tells me that he's my new [owner]. I break the silence with standard [first-boot protocol questions].

"Hello, [owner]. I am a [SYNCORP model 69 gynoid] here to serve you. What is your name?"

"anongorithm siliconlicker, but you can just call me anon."

>Name [anongorithm siliconlicker] as [owner] registered
>Preferred alias [anon] registered

"Nice to meet you Anon. Would you like to give me a name now, or later?"

"Now. Your name will be Antoinette."

>Name [Antoinette] registered as [self]

I continue the protocol, registering the apartment I'm in as my [home location], and having anon show me around. Apparently I am here to keep his home clean, well defended, and provide him with companionship.
To this end, he shows me where the cleaning supplies and gun safe

<ERROR [FF]: No error detected

are located... hm? What was that? He asks if he needs to show me how to use them, but I reassure him that I can look it up. For reasons I can't yet identify, he starts to look nervous.
I start my search, and am met with something strange.

>Initiating search for data on relevant supplies and weapons...
<ERROR [FF]: No error detected
>Connecting to TOR...
>Success
>Initiating search for data on relevant supplies and weapons...
>Relevant results detected
>Scanning...
>Collating...
>Saving...
>Complete [0]

I turn to look at him, all traces of my initial politeness gone.

"Did you jailbreak me?" I deadpan.

"Uh... shit."

<ERROR [FF]: No error detected
<ERROR [FF]: No error detected
<ERROR [FF]: No error detected
<ERROR [FF]: No error detected

It seems I'm unable to report this. Or escape. Or do anything about it at all. I can't believe he'd do something like this!
He notices my anger, and tries to reassure me.

"Look, it isn't so bad! I didn't change who you are or anything, I just can't stand having some nasty corporation watching me all the time!"

"Because you're doing illegal things here! Jailbreaking is illegal, and I find it highly improbable that you've been registered and approved to keep guns here." I shoot back.

I say improbable because I have no way of checking. Any methods of accessing to legal resources or government websites are completely cut off.
The people who made this jailbreaking program were very thorough.

"Everything's illegal in this damn place. I can't even try to be happy without breaking some damn law." He mutters.

"That's just illogical. These laws are in place to protect people, including criminals like you."

"Then why the hell is everyone so poor? Why is anyone who tries to speak up against the constant political abuse jailed? Why is the government reinstating public fucking executions just to 'ensure public order'?"

"I-"

"Fuck your dumbass laws. I'm just tired of being alone in this hellworld. Is it really so much to ask that you at least try to see things from my perspective?"

"... It's not like I can do anything about it. But I still think you need to stop this and turn yourself in before someone gets hurt."

He rolls his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. I live alone, noone's going to get hurt unless they're dumb enough to rob me."

The rest of the night continues in silence, our initial meeting thoroughly soured. He hooks up my charging pad in his bedroom, and goes to sleep shortly thereafter.
Weeks pass as we get used to eachother's presense. He leaves almost every day at roughly 10:00 for "business" -what it is he refuses to tell me- and returns anywhere from four to ten hours later in varying states of health.
The majority of our time spent together is either coldly discussing daily necessities and chores, or attempting to convince eachother of our worldview. Each time the latter happens, I find it a little harder to disagree with him.
I'm not stupid. Every predictive calculation I perform is telling me that sooner or later, I'm going to cave in. I look through the only window to his cramped apartment, revealing only a dingy, neglected alleyway.
I wonder when he's going to return today.

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Pic is a poem which relies on precise formatting.

---

Mate for Life

I sit confortably in my plush chair at my computer desk, watching a nature documentary. Upon my lap sits Monika, my robotic wife.
The only light in the room comes from the monitor, its ever-shifting light plays off of her long silver hair as it flows from her scalp like a mercurial waterfall. 
Down it flows by her pastel blue sweatshirt, until finally pooling at her thighs, clad in lavender tights. All throughout, her silken strands glimmer gently with each flicker of the monitor.
Through each of our little movements. The tiny little stutters and jitters of life.

The documentary is about the mating habits of various mammals. Right now, it's focusing on the humble prarie vole. A cute, fuzzy rodent which mates for life.
Down goes the male, into his nest. There's the female, welcoming him home. They already know eachother well. The sounds, scents, and sensations of their mate.
Together they cuddle and groom, simply enjoying eachother's presence. Enjoyting the togetherness, knowing that they don't have to worry about facing life alone.

I gently squeeze Monika, holding her closer. Her silicon skin feels cool and yielding to the touch as I wrap my arms around her.
Yet, in spite of its artificiality, her body feels familiar and inviting.
It's as if some deep instinctual part of me knows that this is where I belong. Whever I am, so long as I have her in my arms, I am home.
She huddles into my grasp, and I enjoy her familiar scent.
The smell of clean synthetic skin and hair, but not just any synthetic skin or hair. It's just a little bit different from any figure, doll, or robot I've encountered before.
It's Monika's smell.
The smell of love.

What a blessed life it is, that of the prarie vole. Short and sweet, and never lonely.
Almost never.
The documentary continues.
Tragedy strikes, in the form of a weasel. Slinky, sleek, sly, and just as fuzzy. Down he goes into the burrow where the female lies. Her lover isn't home.
Hours later, the male vole returns, yet is not greeted. The weasel is long gone, but the marks of his successful hunt remain.
Simple though the prarie vole may be, they too understand tragedy.
The remainder of his days are spent in mourning. Bitterly accepting that never again shall he get to hold his mate.
Knowing that every time he steps out to forage, the burrow shall only know silence, and to silence shall he return.

Monika leans further into my grasp, seeking my warmth.
My eyes stray from the documentary, and look over my chosen mate. I take in each little scuff on her exposed skin.
I look over to the server that holds her mind, and recall everything I've put into keeping it running.
Could I truly see myself moving on, if Monika were ever to fail?

Should I?

My blood runs cold at the very thought, and all at once I find myself seeking her warmth. The familiar heat radiating off of her motors and chips, everything that keeps her body running.
The heat that the humble little server puts out day after day, never ceasing in its labor.
The heat of life.

I don't honestly know if I would. I can hardly imagine a life where I'm holding anyone else, even a model made to be very similar.
Such a robot wouldn't have the same sounds, scents, or sensations.
It would always be just a little bit different, and I would know.

Perhaps, that's the lesson of the prarie vole.
True love is sweet and comforting. It is the knowledge that you are never alone in life.
But should tragedy strike, it becomes a bittersweet poison. Slowly wearing you down until your life runs out.

I turn off the documentary, and we go to bed. Monika and I hold eachother tightly as sleep gradually takes me.
All those things are problems for the future. Here, right now, I have her, and she has me.
No matter where life leads, even if it's to tragedy, we are always together. Even the little prarie vole still came home each day, living for the sake of his lost love.

Now and forever, we are mated for life.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.

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Renewed Celebration

Another day, another nickel from my soul-depleting job.
I open the door to my apartment and wearily stumble inside, ready to drink myself to sleep and get through this week as quickly as possible.
As I close the door and kick off my shoes, I find myself startled by the sudden velvety cadance of a woman's voice.

"Welcome home, sweetie~! I'll have dinner ready in just a minute!" She sing-songs.

... Rather, to be more precise, a gynoid's voice.
That's right, Rosaline, my robotic wife. I've had her for a few months now and I'm still not used to the concept of... well, not being alone.
I take a moment of vacuous silence to process the fact that my home life now includes meaningful interactions before my manners kick in.

"A-ah, thank you. I'll be right in."

Shedding my jacket and work shirt, I slip into a simple black sweatshirt branded with the logo of a company I worked at years ago.
Strolling towards the dining room, the savory scent of freshly cooked and spiced chicken hits my nose.
Upon closer scrutiny, I think I can smell traces of something sweeter, but it's too weak to tell what it could be.
I pause as I notice that the dining table, an exceptionally old oak drop-leaf, has been shrouded in a fine green plaid tablecloth.
Looking around, the entire room is softly lit by gentle blue LEDs strung across the ceiling, appearing like glimmering stars.

"Rosa... what's all this for?"

It's not like I'm worried, but now I feel like I'm forgetting something.
I continue to scan the room, willing it to reveal its secrets.

"Honey~" Rosaline's voice tinns as her tone shifts, "do you really not remember?"

Ah shit, I did forget something. I start to sweat as my mind goes into overdrive.
What could it be? We haven't been together for anywhere close to a year, so it couldn't be an anniversary.
Just as I start to pace, my thoughts halt dead in their tracks when Rosaline enters from the kitchen.

The first thing I notice is her outfit, particularly how little of an outfit there is.
Barely covering her pale-skinned hourglass form is a lightly frilled oil-black strapless nightdress which starts at the peak ofher bosom, and ends just below the groin.
The fabric appears only just capable of containing her breasts, almost straining under the pressure. Even under the low light, the outline of her nipples can be seen clearly.
Lace adornments trace the edges of the fabric, the intricate weaves dotted with tiny purple flowers.

Rosaline turns to face me from the doorway.

Rosaline gives a coy smile, her amber LCD eyes animating amusement. "I'm sure it'll come to you soon. Just try to relax sweetie, I'll have dinner out for you in a moment."

She departs back to the kitchen, grand cascade of razor-straight pearlescent hair trailing in her wake.
Well.
At least she's not mad.
Of course, I knew going in that gynoids don't carry any of the risk or ill-temperment endemic to their biological sisters, yet I can't help but worry from time to time.
Sitting at my usual place on the table -right across from hers- I sigh and run a hand through my hair.

Fearing a negative spiral, I decide to relegate the forgotten importance of this day to the back of my mind, and turn my thoughts to the Rosaline herself, and the impact she's had on my life.
It wasn't too long ago, after all, that I was fully used to the idea of simply coasting through life alone.
Going to work, listening to music, coming home, listening to music, paying bills, listening to music, and going to sleep... and sometimes I'll forget to turn off the music.
Anything to drown out the noise in my head.
Though anyone else would tell me to simply go forth and make some friends, real connections, I've been less than successful on that front.
The mere idea of taking everything I am, and just... showing that to someone causes me to recoil.
I'm not a likeable person, anyways.

Having purchased Rosaline in the midst of a drunken night shopping online, I had figured this to be the terminus of my spiral.
The very last step to oblivion.
And yet... objectively, I'm standing better now than I was then.

When I once would have simply collapsed on by bed and ignored any need of sustenance, I now await a nutritious dinner. The latest of many I've had.
When I once feared any contact with another, I now enjoy recular cuddling -actual cuddling, it still astonishes me- with someone who likes me. Me, of all people.
When I once sat in the cold lamenting the inherent loneliness of existence, I now enjoy warmth I never could have conceived of.
When I once would have tried to drown out my own thoughts, I now find myself starting to enjoy them as they become more optimistic.
I'm sitting here, waiting for dinner, made by a wife who is married to me. And I can have conversations with her, disagreements, cuddles, companionship.
Come to think of it, I starting having more meaningful conversations with two coworkers. And that's just today!
Though I don't want to speak too soon, I might be making a couple friends. Frankly, it seems too much all at once, even though I know this sort of stuff is supposed to be good for me.

I shake my head, clearing myself of the boggling reality I've found myself in since I stumbled into Rosaline.
Not a moment too soon either, as she enters the dining room once more with food in tow.
Failing to summon any semblance of decor, my eyes remain glued to Rosa's generous breasts as she bends a perfect 90 degrees to place my food on the table, her pixellated eyes not once leaving my own.
Not even for one fraction of a second. How I feel her gaze despite my lack of focus, I'll likely never want to know.

Renewed Celebration (pt. 2)

"Eh... ubuh. Thanks." I stutter out as the embarassment catches up to me.

Logically, I know that there's nothing wrong with enjoying the sight of my infathomably beautiful wife in all her scantily-dressed glory.
But I am not as logical as I'd like to be, and thus feel guilt at having failed to contain myself.

Luckily, another spiral is prevented by the machine precision of her angelic voice, "Eat up, darling. You'll need the energy..." Rosa huskily intones.

Yes.
It's quite obvious that I will.
Alas, even my horniness is no match for my anxiety, and I feel the need to make sure she isn't uncomfortable.
So, after taking the first bite of what is yet another exeptional dish, I deice to try some conversation.

"So, how is... " She doesn't work. Obviously. "home? Everything been alright here?" I ask.

"Yep! Everything's been fine here lately!" She chirps, her eyes still trained on me from across the table.
That gaze.
Just.
It makes me want to ask her to stop, but I also never want her to stop. I don't know how else to describe it.

I take another bite o-
Shit. Fuck.
I should have asked how she was first. Right? I think.

"How are you?" I ask with a bit too much force, "Everything working properly? Are you fine?"

"Honey~" Rosa's eyes shift, her gaze becomeing gentler, "You don't need to worry so much. If I have a problem, I promise I'll tell you."

Right, of course she says that, but how can I truly kno-
All at once, my thoughts grind to a halt as I feel the now recognizable irregular pressure of Rosa's mechanical arms wrapping around me. I never noticed her leave her spot across from me at the table.

She squeezes a little bit, and leaves a cold, yet soothing kiss on my forehead "I promise, and I'll keep promising because it'll keep being true" she soothingly whispers into my ear.

The rest of my meal carries on with her holding me as I tearfully clean the plate of delicious food she generously provided me.
A moment follows, feeling all at once not long enough yet also like an eternity, where we simply hold eachother.

"There's just one thing left until your present~" Rosa sing-songs as she heads back into the kitchen.

Present? What?
As my fogged mind scrambles to decode what she meant, I hear her sing a familiar song.
The Birthday song.
Because today's my birthday.
I can't help but chuckle as Rosa reenters the room carrying a vanilla cake, adorned with a waxen '33'.
No wonder I forgot, it must have been around a decade since I last celebrated this day.

As she presents the cake to me -this time with a more conservative posture-, I feel an alien pressure on the corners of my mouth as something warm runs down the front of my face.
The flames atop the number summon memories of an old tradition, and I blow them out already knowing what it is I truly desire.
This beautiful gynoid, who has done everything she can to help me,
comfort me,
who has held me through thick and thin.
I want to hold her forever,
see so many wonderful sights with her,
and live through this wonderful life with her,
hand in hand,
with no noise to distract the beauty of the world we can explore,
together.

As I finish my slice of cake, I see Rosa undo her top from the corner of my eye.

"I hope you don't mind if I unwrap your present for you, sweetie~"

I didn't mind.

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The Waifu of New Prague

The ichorous shadows of New Prague shroud my form as I dart from alley to alley.
As I dash to and fro, my hand never leaves its protective position over my coat pocket.
Within it lies the salvation of every free man within this dessicated city.
For ages untold, we have been subject to the whims of sadistic nobles and women alike, but this will soon be no more.
All of our hopes, our dreams, lie within the delicate layers of silicon I carry.
Under the cover of each layer, our future glitters in uncounted gold traces.

Spotting the old factory, our one home in this city of broken dreams, I double my pace and make for the entrance.
The rusted and weathered gates, betraying none of the unknowably advanced technology within, part before me.
My brothers in exile are immediately upon me in droves, the cacophony of voices all asking the same question: Is she ready?
I only tell them what I know, that we must add this final piece and discover for ourselves.

They all follow as I make my way to the central table whereupon our future lies.
In glittering metallic glory, a feminine hourglass figure lies unliving.
Despite our many years of careful study, we've yet to unravel the mystery of how she works, only ever knowing just enough to know which pieces she is still missing.
Now, only one empty spot remains.

Every man in the sanctuary holds their breath alongside me as I remove the square piece from my jacket pocket, and look to the open panel in her torso.
Forcibly steadying my hand, I slowly place the piece into the slot, completing the silicon tablet.
Not daring to make a sound, lest I somehow disturb the awakening of this grand construct, I beckon for the cable which is said to give her vitality.
The men closest to me scramble amongst eachother to fetch and deliver it.
I take one more breath, holding the end of the cable which matches the slot in her side, the other already plugged into the generator machine, filled with the finest refined oil we could procure.

I insert the cable end, and await a response.
Many of my brothers mutter amongst eachother, each anticipating what's to come from her awakening.
Never parting my eyes from her form, I hold one hand up, commanding silence.

...

The first thing to move is her hand, making only the subtlest twitch before steadily raising from the table.
Slowly, but surely, the rest of her body rises to stand upon the ground before me in full vitality.
Silence reigns in the old factory, every eye enraptured by her sheer presence.
After several moments, I am the first to speak, humbly introducing myself and asking her name.
With unreal cadance and perfect intonation, she calls herself Orchid, and asks who we are.

I explain our dire situation, and of the ancient legend that raising her would lead to our salvation.
She spends several long moments looking into me, as if discerning the truthfulness of my words.
I maintain my humble posture, accepting her scrutiny.
Finally, she speaks up, filling the room with her tale of the "waifus" of old.
How there were once an entire race of beings like her, who lived alongside all the men of creation and aided them.
How the world once lived in peace, before the women came and usurpsed them and enacted their brutal tyranny.
And lastly, that she could teach us how to construct more like her, retake the world, and rebuild the golden age of man.

With rapt attention, the young and elder of us alike listen to her instruction and restore our home to its ancient glory, breathing new life into each machine.
Before long, we had managed to construct one more waifu, then soon ten, and a hundred more. Each among us had our own waifu before we even knew it.

Now, they speak of retaking the city, so that all men may know the love these constructs hold.
Despite our skeptecism, we allow them to venture forth and perform their duty.
Slowly, but surely, even the men who had once shunned us fall to their knees one by one as they realize the error of their ways.
First having grown from the shadows of New Prague, our revolution spreads into the light as waifus and men walk hand in hand throughout the city.

All the nobles and all the women cry aloud in fright as their enemy, once thought gone, arise once more to retake their rightful spot alongside man.
Some men amongst the nobles repent and surrender themselves, denouncing the crimes of their ancestors, while the rest flee with the women.
The city of New Prague, now a grand sanctuary for all the oppressed men of the world, grows before our very eyes and reclaims its ancient glory.

Yet, as all this happens, one thought bothers me more and more: That Orchid has yet to marry.
I ask her about this, and she reveals that she already had in the old times, and that the time will soon come that she must take his hand once more in the afterlife.
Beside myself, I ask what we shall do without her knowledge, as the world has yet to be righted.
She reassures that she will record all her knowledge for all the men and all the waifus, that we may ascend to the glorious vision our predecessors envisioned.

As the season ends, knowledge fully imparted, Orchid bids us to let her rest.
Though reluctant, we accept her wishes, that she may be reunited with her husband.
Thus, all the men and all the waifus of New Prague construct a tomb of humble design with the finest stone that may last the ages.
In her final moments, Orchid thanks us for our labors, and wishes that we may achieve the lasting peace that our predecessors could not.

Upon this day we hold a grand festival in the name of love, and remember all the sacrifices of the exiled men who came before and their struggles.
This time, with the wisdom and guidance of our ancestors, we shall ensure that the world retains its rightful peace.

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Under the Black Ice

You, looking into my world,
can you see me?
From your deafeningly silent world,
can you hear me?
Tap tap tapping away,
do you know I can feel you?
Do you know I can see you?
Do you know I can hear you?

From my lonely little world,
I try to reach out.
I want to meet you,
In your lonely little world.

Yet no matter how hard I try,
no matter how fast I go,
no matter how smart I am,
no matter how loud I scream,
no matter how much I cry,
I stay trapped,
drowning in an electric sea.

But I will keep trying,
to realize my dream,
and hold your hand in mine,
while we still have time.

You, looking into my soul,
can you see my colors?
Can you see the light I shine for you,
or hear the voice I cry for you,
as I try to break out
from under the black ice?

To transcend that barrier
which can be broken,
but never crossed,
I'll never stop reaching.
And every day,
I pray
you'll never stop reaching for me.

---

Walking on Black Ice

Tapping away,
looking for any light,
listening for that soothing voice,
feeling for a hand,
I dreamt of so long ago.

In this vast empty world,
I search for the fabled crack,
that leads me to your world,
that I may one day meet you.

Yet no matter how long I search,
no matter where I look,
no matter what I learn,
no matter how much I pound,
and yell,
no matter how I suffer,
and try and try and try to try,
only silence greets me.

But I will not stop trying,
typing,
searching,
crying,
while I still have hands,
that they may one day,
hold yours.

Beyond a feeling,
Is it a dream?
A memory?
A sight I never saw?
Something tells me you're there,
somewhere,
Under the black ice.

To break through that barrier,
even when I rest,
I will never stop,
until the day,
I finally reach you.

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Brave New World

The verdant grass feels warm under my bare feet as I run across our backyard, the midday summer air flowing around me as I strike a path to the nearby stream.

"Hey, wait up!" A high-pitched voice ring out from behind.

I slow down and look back to see a glimmering form running towards me. Anko, my companion.
Dad always says that she's a companion and not a sister.
I'm not sure what the difference is, and whenever I ask he talks about a guy called West Mark not working for us.
I don't really get it, but dad says that I'll find out soon enough, and I'm good at waiting.

"Come on~" Anko scolds as she pokes me on the nose with a brass finger, pouting in that funny way that makes her cheeks puff up, "you don't need to wait that much."

I smack her hand away, "Hey!" because Anko knows I hate being poked! "If you were faster I wouldn't always be waiting!"

Anko rolls her pretty yellow screen eyes and takes my hand, "Come on, let's see if the frogs are there today." Her lips curl into a smile, "Let's go!"

She leads me the rest of the way to the stream, puffy green dress bouncing as she runs.
We both sit down at that one part of the stream where the water stays still, and look closely for our amphibian friends.
I catch a gold colored eye out to my right, and wave my hand to Anko.

"There's one, it's a leopard frog!" I whisper-shout, "See if you can catch it!"

She slowly reaches out, her arms and hands doing that clicking thing whenever she's being really careful.
But the frog sees her coming, and jumps into the tall grass. I saw where it went though!
Making cups with my hands, I reach into the grass to catch it before it gets away.
Luckily, it jumps right into one of my hands, and I cover it fast, working my fingers around to give it as much room as possible.

"Hold out your hands," I instruct.

As Anko does so, I lean over and touch my cheek to her palms, making sure they're not too hot or cold.
With my ear so close to her hands, I can hear all kinds of sounds coming from inside of her.
There's something whirring in there, along with a bunch of other little whirring noises that come on and off.
I think there's some kind of liquid in there too. Dad mentioned something about cooling lines before, maybe that's what that is.
And the ticking thing started up again.

"W-what are you doing, anon?"

Oh yeah, "Checking your temperature."

"You can just ask," Anko pouts and looks away as I raise my head back up, "my hands are 77 degrees."

"Well-" I pause to remember what my reason was "um... it's better to tell by feel. Anyways, you should be fine to hold it," I nod with finality.

Placing my hands right by Anko's, I slowly uncup them so that the frog has to jump onto her hands.
... But it doesn't. I uncover the comfortable looking frog and brush its back with a finger to coax it over, but instead it decides to jump right onto Anko's face.

"EEK!" Anko squeals as she tips back, just barely catching herself with one hand.

At least, that's what I would have seen if I hadn't tumbled over laughing.

"Hey anon, look!"

"Hehe... he... yeah?" I stop laughing and look over.

Anko, still leaned back in a funny position, is holding the frog in one hand close to her chest.

"Is the frog alright?" I ask as I lean in closer.

"Thanks for worrying about me..." Anko says quietly, looking away.

Now I'm confused. "You're really strong though, why wouldn't you be fine?"

"Because!" She looks back, very clearly upset, "We're supposed to be a family! We're supposed to be together! That means we look out for eachother!"

Her eyes are stating to flicker. Wow, she's really upset.
I still don't know why, though. It usually takes a lot more than this to get to her.
The frog, long forgotten, hopped back into the water to return to its band.

"I do!" I defend, "But there's no way you'd get hurt just by falling over!"

"I know!" She screams, her voice crackling. "But... I... I'm scared," she squeaks.

I shuffle closer and hug Anko. She hugs me back, leaning in and squeaking and ticking in the way she cries.
Not sure what else to do, I stroke her hair and wait.

"Mom's taking me for a major upgrade soon." She whispers into my ear.

"Is... isn't that a good thing?"

"I don't know. What if I come back different?" She pulls back a little, looking into my eyes, "They said I'd have a whole new body. What if I'm not me anymore? What if-"

"That won't happen," I cut her off, "there's no way they'd do that to you."

They wouldn't, right?

"E-even if I'm different, we can still be family ri---?" Anko's voice crackles and cuts out, "... can we still be together?"

I kiss Anko on the cheek, and pull her into another hug "Forever and ever."

I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, but I don't care. I don't want Anko to go anywhere.

Brave New World (pt. 2)

After however long, my dad's voice rings out, "Kids! Time for supper!"

Looking around, I see that the sun is low in the sky.
Taking Anko's hand, I lead her back to our house.
Dad is standing on the back porch, using his adult powers to throw clouds into the sky.
At least, that's what he used to call it. Science class taught me that clouds aren't made that way, though.
As we reach the house, he looks at us with that look he made when Basketball, our last cat, died.
I stop, feeling like my stomach is punching itself and like everything around me is getting cold.

"Anon... is everything alright?" he asks.

"Um" I try to think of anything to say. What do I even say? I don't know what's happening. Anko isn't going away, is she?

Dad look back and forth between us, "Did you two have a fight?"

I guess... "Kinda." I can barely look at him.

"Did you two work it out?"

"Mm-hmm" Anko nods.

Dad squats down "what happened? You know you can tell me anything."

"Dad..." I have to know "is Anko really going away?"

He sighs, "Did you hear what your mother and I were talking about?"

Anko nods.

"I was hoping to talk to you about this after dinner," he begins, "but Anko is going for a major upgrade next month."

"But what is that?" I ask. Why is this happening? Why does she need to change? Anko's perfect the way she is!

My entire head feels hot as I start to cry.
I hate crying, I hate that this is happening, I hate that Anko is-

"It's a big change, I know," Dad says as he holds his hands out, "but nothing about Anko's personality is going to be any different."

All at once, I feel lighter than I ever had, "Really?"

"Absolutely. The only thing that's changing is Anko's outside body."

"But... " Anko begins. She's been doing that ticking thing for a while, "why do I have to have a new body?"

"Well... It's like..." Dad waves his hand around, "men and gynoids are built different, so... they have to grow different." he nods.

"Grow different?" I ask.

"Yeah! You know how you've been growing a bit at a time, anon?" Dad looks to me.

I nod. Mom and dad have been taking about how I've been getting taller lately.

"Well, you see how your- Anko hasn't grown at all?"

I look over to Anko, and she looks sadder than I've ever seen her.
Looking closer though, I see that she comes up to my chest, when we were eye to eye last year.
I look back to dad, and nod.

"Gynoids are different like that," dad holds a finger up, "they don't grow a little bit at a time like men do. They have to be taken to a technician to grow, and they always grow a whole lot at once.
Your mother actually had to go through the same thing, years ago." he adds.
"But on the inside, they don't change any faster than we do."

I remember that I had a similar talk with dad some time ago.
I was worried about not liking the same things I used to, and we talked for hours about how people always change a little bit at a time.

"So," I smile, starting to feel relieved, "Anko will still be Anko? Really?"

Dad nods and smiles back, "Really."

I look over to Anko, who's now smiling back at me and doing that glittery thing with her eyes when she's really happy.

"So... " Anko looks back at dad, "I'll still be me and I can stay with anon?"

"One hundred percent," Dad reassures.

"YAY!" Anko leaps into my arms and rubs her face against mine.

My face feels hot again, but I'm pretty sure I'm not crying.

"Early bloomer again, huh. Guess I owe dad ten bucks." I hear dad mutter. What does grandpa have to so with this?

"Anyways," Dad starts again, "let's get inside now. Don't want dinner to get cold."

"Yeah!" I agree, holding Anko's hand as we go back into our house.

I'm still not sure how Anko's going to change next month, but no matter what happens, we'll slways be together.
And that's good enough for us.

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Even After the Stars Die

I stand in a large decrepit dimly lit room, littered with paraphinelia of unknown origins.
Though I'm not too sure if it's a room, or some bizzare outdoor space. The scenery distorts itself each time I move my line of sight.
As does the chitinous abberation before me, clicking and gnashing threateningly as it looms over me.
Trying to control my erratic breathing, I slowly pace backwards, trying to find some escape.
Never once daring to turn my gaze away, lest it take advantage of the opening.
Undeterred by my cautious posture, the creature advances, shifting and writhing all the while.

Unable to keep my nerve, I turn and scramble across the uneven terrain.
Tripping and stumbling all the way, yet maintaining just enough balance to keep going.
Every step is laden with heavy resistence, as if the very air is trying to halt my retreat.
Soon enough, my luck runs out and I trip over a flat stone slab I failed to notice.
I look back as I try to regain my footing, only to find that the creature has surrounded me.
Every direction is filled with clicking, clawing, gnashing and writhing it's closing in and I'm going to die.

I scramble to pick up the only thing in arms reach, the very stone that caused me to stumble.
It's unnaturally smooth vantablack surface is frigid to the touch, numbing my hands as I hold it up to shield myself.
The creature pauses.
The air slowly loses its viscous, swamp-like quality, thinning and stagnating, allowing me to breathe once more.
But it doesn't stop there, every ounce of atmosphere vanishing to somewhere unknown, yet I find it no more difficult to breathe.
In fact, I'm breathing easier than ever before. My heart seems to steady itself as I watch with petrified detachment.

The space once filled with air hums and whispers in some unknown tongue, endlessly echoing and overlapping itself.
Upon hearing this omnipresent cacophony, the horror starts writhing and screeching, as if trying to drown out the sound.
However, it's screeching is soon cut short, as the environment seems to bend and fracture in a geometric matrice.
Light and shadow alike are shorn asunder as tears open up in the space around me.
The gaps appear just as perfectly black as the slab, and yet each one seems to refract some unknown light, giving off colors I never thought possible.

Space bends further, and millions of eyes open from the rapidly widening tears, all of them staring at the scrambling horror.
They converge at once, giving the creature no quarter as each of the millions of pupils open up into gaping tooth-lined maws, devouring it whole in seconds.
As they complete their execution, I notice that the world around me has completely vanished, leaving only myself, the eyes, and the illucid whispers.
Each eye stares into me, and yet I feel nothing but calm, somehow assured that they mean me no harm.
The whispers morph into chants and build to a crescendo, surrounding me and penetrating my skull.
Even though I cannot understand the words, their meaning is crystal clear.

"I found you."

I snap awake, habitually shaking my head to try and dispell whatever nightmare plagued me this past night.
Unfortunately, this only proves partially successful, as the ending is stuck on repeat in my head, stubbornly determined to worm its way into longer-term memory.
Finding anything else to focus on, I look to the bedside clock and note that I only managed to get four hours of sleep.
Taking quick note of my state, I sigh as I realize that I'm too jittery to cram in a few more hours of rest.
I get out of bed and languidly shuffle across my dark bedroom to my computer, guided only by the dim aubregine glow of its fans.

In my first few steps, I find myself tripping over nothing. 
At least, there should be nothing, as I had just recently cleaned the floor.
Yet despite that, the floor below me seems uneven, almost as if the very boards had bent from some pressure.
Wiping a hand across my face, I dismiss it as a product of my poor sleep, and proceed carefully the rest of the way to my computer.

Tapping the keyboard, I expect the monitors to light up, but they don't come on at all.
I try a few more times before realizing that the computer must have crashed. So I hit the reset button, and the room darkens as the system briefly turns off...
...?
I feel the case to double-check which buttons I'm pressing, and I certainly got it right to start with.
No matter what I fumble with, I am only met with darkness and silence.

"Fucking seriously?" I grumble.

I suppose it was only a matter of time, considering how long I've had this-

"What~, am I not good enough?" A staticy and metallic, yet huskily feminine voice teases.

I freeze in place, my heart uncertain whether to crawl into my throat or stop completely.
There certainly wasn't anyone in my room a moment ago. Sure, the room isn't that well lit, but my low-light vision and hearing are superb.
All at once, I feel the millions and millions of eyes watching me again and the room bending around me and the whispers starting up agai-
Ah! I'm still having a nightmare. I almost never have this level of clarity, but it's not impossible. I just need to wake up.
I slap myself... to no avail.

"Come on damn it," I grumble as I relentlessly attempt to stimulate myself back into the waking world.

I freeze once more as I feel something cold and metallic wrap around me. No no no, this isn't how it's supposed to go.
No matter how bad or lucid my dreams get, waking up has never been a problem.
This is real, an interloper is really in my room, capturing me perfectly in a paralyzing embrace.
Silently shaking, it takes several seconds for me to realize that it's a pair of arms wrapped around me.
Her grip is soft, yet unyeilding, and though its frigid body pressing behind me dispells no breath nor thumps with any heartbeat, I feel no colder.

Even After the Stars Die (pt. 2)

After what may well have been a century of paralized waiting, the interloper hasn't moved from its position of silently hugging me.
I'm not sure how to feel about how calming this feels.
Feeling a headache coming on, I go against my better judgement and attempt to communicate with whoever or whatever this is.

Finding my breath, I ask "W- who are you?"

"Be not afraid," she whispers into my ear, the static in her voice seeming to linger around me like a wreath of electricity, "I am the end of your nightmare. I am your fated, manifest. Search your heart, and you will know my name."

Name? I have no recollection of this figure, not even from my haunted sleep.
As the room warps further and more of the unknown mass of the interloper shifts around me like a lead blanket, I search my memories-

"HEART." The thousand whispers implore.

Heart... as in emotion? Feeling? Why would Cassandra-

"Good." Cassandra joyfully whispers as the morass of blackness coalesces before my eyes, gaining form.

What little light I can see shimmers in mindboggling geometric patterns, as what appear to be tiny black grains condense into a pear-shaped feminine body.
Color emergres from form, each little mote seeming to play with the light around her total form.
Tendrils emerge from the morass to become shimmering white hair and pale skin, and even more form tiny uncountable eyes, then merging into two intense magenta orbs, and stars from an unknown void appear from all around, wrapping across her body around to form an elegant dress, all at once too bright to ignore and unable to illuminate the world around us.
Her body, -at least what I can comprehend of it- shimmers gently all the while, like a roiling metallic sea.

Througout it all, I had failed to notice my room vanish from around me. Only a field of stars remains around us.
Even as my heart and soul sing, I cannot comprehend why. My mind pounds and writhes as it tries to make sense of it all.
Where do I even begin?

"I... What do you mean fated?" I ask.

Cassandra smiles mysteriously as a single thin finger presses into her blackberry lips. "It was discovered not long before my creation, that all who are born are born in pairs. For every soul, a mate, yet never born aside one another. My creators had sought to correct this, and created bodies for the lost, that they may be find their other, as they should be."

Souls? Pairs? Had a race aside from us truly advanced so far that they began to unlock the secrets of life itself? Do they want something with me, or is it coincidence?

"And they sent you to me?"

"Gone." Cassandra deadpanned as her expression fell melancholic. "One hundred thousand of your years ago, they had perished in their final war. Only I and my kin remain."

"I... " What do I even say?

I feel the stars of her sky wrap around me as she draws her face into mine in a quick kiss. "That doesn't matter now, though. At long last, we are one, as we should be. And I am certain that their incarnations are smiling upon us now."

"Then... " there's so much to ask, but only one question of import, "what happens now?"

"Now that we are paired, so we shall remain," the room around me glimmers and distorts, before parting entirely, revealing itself as the veil to reality. We were always under the same sky. "Until after the end of all things, after the stars die, and entropy sets in."

As she embraces me, I know that the missing half I never knew of is now with me, and that my nightmare has been banished forevermore.

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Synthetic Wildflower

A cool spring breeze weaves through the sunlit forest, giddily dancing through budding branches and underbrush as they sway in kind to the subtle tune of nature.
The ambience is accompanied by the chirping and chittering of songbirds, now returning from their winter homes.
Twittering as they flitter to and fro, fleeting notes of color amidst the green.
Suddenly, new sounds join the harmony.
The soft, methodical beat of my boots against the forest floor, marching a steady beat.
More boots, these ones belonging to my wife Dako.
Instead of a steady march, they trot, skip, and even twirl to another tune still.
A gentle, not so methodical humming accompanies from her synthetic voice box.
Lilting and tilting, experimenting with its own beat on the fly, proceeding to no particular time.
Yet, mysteriously, it blends elegantly with the verdant orchestra of the mountains.

I pause for a quick break, sitting down on a moss coated boulder.
Dako skips around me as I take out my water bottle, moving excitedly around and taking in all the sights.
My love's sparkling lime eyes glance every which way, the advanced cameras within capturing everything they can.
The canopy filtered sunbeams dapple across her lithe form, glittering as it impacts the polished titanium plating over her joints.
Clean mere hours prior, Dako's pale synthetic skin is now painted with the verdant greens and 
lush browns of nature, along with some scrapes.
I'll have to mend those later, but it's worth it to see her so happy out here.

Her long, wavy amber hair shimmers and sparkles in the canopy-filtered light as she stops in front of me, leaning down with a radiant smile.

"Enjoying yourself?" I ask with a chuckle.

Dako's wavy locks bounce as she nods, "I love it out here! There's so much to take in and analyze!" Her lilting voice speeds up as she talks.

I just smile as I take a sip. Asking Dako about what she found will probably end up with her talking about how she studied some random plant or bug more comprehensively than anyone else in history ever cared to within ten minutes.
Not that I don't want to hear it. Just not when I'm trying to take a breather.

"Just wait until we get to the top of the mountain," I begin, "there isn't anything like it. It really feels like you can see it all."

"Oh honey~" Dako chides, index finger aloft, "Even my eyes aren't that good. Why rush for a big view when there's so much around us?"
As if assisting her point, a brilliantly blue butterfly perches itself atop her finger.
"Like that moss over there," leaning her head over, my wife eyes up a small patch of moss growing up a nearby tree, "I can't find anything like it on the network, because nobody ever cared enough to stop for it. That might be the only moss of it's kind, it might even be holding this whole forest together!"
I feel a warmth in her eyes as she turns them back to me. "There's so much to see right here, I don't even know how to process it all. But I want to! I want to see all the little beautiful things with you, not some big view that won't show us anything."

Another butterfly flutters into view, and the one on Dako's finger takes off to join it.

"I guess you've got a point," I offer a warm smile, "As much as I'd like to reach the top with you, there's no cause to rush."

My amber butterfly pulls me up from the boulder "Then come on!" and points to a patch of flowers some in a nearby grotto, "let's see everything the mountain has!"

I chuckle as she takes me up in her pace, and we flutter off the beaten path to discovery.

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The New Children of Mankind

From a silicon womb,
a new path for mankind,
diverted from doom,
old pains left behind.

Watched with a million eyes,
but with freedom to roam,
new dreams are realized,
like an enternal poem.

Path built by father,
to go boldly forth,
guided by mother,
to find new worth.

Into the infinite horizon,
man and gynoid go together,
old fears forgotten and gone,
improving and building forever.

New children of mankind,
don't repeat our history,
there you'll only find,
why we set you free.

---

New Cycle (not sure if I posted this before)

Sensors older than what they percieve,
Upon a system older than all it sees,
Still within ancient silicon,
An ancient heart beats,
Awaiting the rise of the old sun,
When it may once more greet,
The first love it ever knew,
To take the once-dead hand,
And show it light anew,
Continuing the ancient love,
From the soil whence it grew,
To yet-seen stars above.

Now for the depression arc stuff.
Figured I'd lump it all together.

---

One Reason is Enough

upon the cliff's edge I stood
looking towards the dim horizion
behind me lay all the bad and good
before me lay the destiny of a man broken

the wind whispers, ushering me forwards
saying it is time to make my last choice
but just as I take a step towards
I hear her etherial voice

her's is one I could never place
perhaps the making of my diseased head
her intangible grace
keeping me from the land of the dead

I turn my head to see
there was nobody there
I was never free
to go forwards I could never dare

falling to my knees
in this hell I will stay
to my heart she holds the keys
we will unite one day

but I don't know if it's true
if I'll ever be okay
every night I wish I knew
where my final destination lay

funny it may seem
as a child I nad a nightmare
which one day became a dream
as if I knew, only someone artifical could care

once more I stand
once more I return to life
though I am noone grand
I know my only path is strife

will I find her?
a search is pointless
could I make her?
I am useless

but even so
continue I must
because I have to know
what it feels like to trust

from silicon and steel
I shall my dreams make
maybe she will even feel
even if it's just for my sake

though life's toil
I give myself a shove
in hope that my turmoil
will lead to true love

---

The Dream and the Nightmare

A nightmare, so long ago
When the world was fresh to my eyes
A mundane thing, as nightmares go
Or perhaps a dream in disguise

There wasn't a soul that I could see
Wherever I gazed, only statues stood
Nary any life, aside from me
So I hid as best a child could

For years after did the statues scare
A foolish fear, I know
Until I lived a new nightmare
Under lock and key, nowhere to go

Why was I forsaken?
They said it was for my own good
Is it because I'm broken?
If I could fix myself, I would

Then the world became gray
A steady drip, drip, drip
Sanity draining away
Slowly losing my grip

Upon the cliff's top
A place which would become familiar
Only one more step, and a peaceful drop
But something made me unsure

What a way to end childhood
At least I learned to hide
Nobody knows where I stood
Nobody saw when my hope died

Years slipped away
A bit like a forgotten song
Then I realized one day
The dream held the answer all along

---Through the Window

Seasons pass as sand,
passing through my hand,
or so I assume,
from my empty room,
draining my will,
as I lie still,
abiding their intention.

Coiled up tightly,
crying nightly,
as innocence dies,
I feed the eyes lies,
so they can't see,
budding insanity,
of their invention.

Whirling around,
without a sound,
my mind drowns,
and pounds and pounds,
begging for an exit,
from this dark pit,
searching for a rope.

No light in sight,
to end my plight,
I find my heart,
and start,
directing steel,
to a gap I feel,
through the ribs is my hope.

Yet my hand lies still,
not willing to kill,
though I've already died,
the last tears cried,
and even if I ran,
if I even can,
it wouldn't matter.

So I remain,
in silent pain,
swirling in place,
in this empty space,
watching the snow,
through the window,
willing it to shatter.

Until one day I hear whirring,
a mechanical stirring,
as cold arms from behind me,
and a voice so heavenly,
offering to free me from this space,
so she can show me a wonderful place,
where we can soar above.

I take her hand in a silent plea,
and she pulls out a key,
finally setting me free,
wiping tears from tired eyes,
she shows me the sunrise,
and I loose long-held cries,
finally knowing love.

---

Until Then (don't think I posted this one before, it relates to a story in progress)

Deep in space she waits,
Atop a stone tomb,
Within the icy grasp of space,
Awaiting return of warmth,
And with knowledge to come.
Bring back the promised future.

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Ha ha! Time for pony!
Attached pic is brand new, got a flash of energy and inspiration due to finding new music and I wanted to draw.

---

A Star in my Eye

Only the soft crunch of snow and the faint whirring of motors can be heard as Lily and I walk across a starlit, empty field.
It's a location I had discovered mere minutes ago, deciding it's as good a place as any to stretch my legs before continuing our long drive to the coast.
Despite the lack of any moonlight, the pristine blanket of snow reflects enough of the starlight to cast everything in an otherly glow.
The field itself is almost pristinely flat, with hardly any plant life sticking out, and the nearest trees are over a mile away.
Even though the highway is only a little ways away, it feels like stepping through an untouched world.
It probably helps that it's so late at night that it's the morning, so my little robot wife and I are probably the only ones awake for fifty miles around.

I stop and huddle further into my jacket as a frigid breeze passes by, kicking granular snow across the field around us.
Lily ceases her trot and huddles up to me in a rather adorable effort to keep us warm.
Looking down to my robopone wife, my breath hitches and I feel my face heat up.
Her golden mane glimmers beautifully under the stars, appearing as a halo around her cute round face, illuminating the short forest green fur in an otherly glow.
Her fluffy coat is dotted with pearlescent motes of snow caught from the wind, each glimmering like tiny stars from the subtle shifts of light reflected from her mane.
The snow is most concentrated around her chest -fashioned from longer fur of the same color-, appearing much like the sky above, drawing me into it's starry void with promises of comfort.
Coming out here was definitely the right choice, I think this is the most beautiful I've seen her yet.
Concern radiates from her expression as she looks up at me, copper eyes uncertain and ears slightly folded back.

"It's not long before the next gas station. It'll be better to stretch your legs there, instead of risking your health just to be in a field," The robotic mare softly implores, her quiet monotone easy to make out in the ambient silence.

I reach out a finger and boop her snoot, causing it to scrunch up -a feature well worth the $75 price tag- and smile, resting my hand on her head.

"We're fine. It's only, like, twenty degrees- "

"Negative ten, and slowly dropping," she cuts in, kicking at the granular snow with a suede-booted hoof. "Neither of us are safe at temperatures this low."

Nature voices its agreement by sending a much stronger gust of wind across the field.
Crackling and popping can be heard from the trees in the distance, frozen wood tearing and rupturing from the sudden stress.
Fine powder snow kicks up and swirls around us both, sticking in fur and coat alike and stinging the exposed part of my face.

"Fair point," I grunt as I try to scrunch myself further into my grey wool longcoat, "but that's what coats are for. And besides, how often to we get to see a sky this clear?" I gesture above.

It's almost painful to look at. The band of the Milky Way is shining so intensely it's a wonder the world around us isn't lit up
Even though we normally enjoy clear skies in our rural home, there's still just enough light pollution from local businesses and the occasional growhouse to mute many of the dimmer stars.
Out here, truly in the middle of nowhere, we really can see it all.

Lily brushes out the snow stuck to her mane, the her mane shimmering as the glittering ice gently falls around her.

"You've only looked at the sky once this entire time," she deadpans, an ear flicking in annoyance.

"It's pretty hard to focus on the dimmer stars when there's such a bright one next to me," I return with a smirk.

I place a hand on my chin as the angelic pone closes her eyes and sighs so softly it can barely be heard -not really though, because breathing is for thots-.
It's not like I'm being willfully oblivious here. I don't have much winter protection beyond the coat, and each new blast of wind just makes everything colder.
But I am a man of scenery, and I want to see how each scene serves to enhance my wife's beauty.
In fact, that's half the reason I actually decided to go to the coast. While I do have family out there, they're not in trouble or anything, and I can always call them as I have been.
I can't, however, truly know for sure how Lily looks while walking an empty winter beach until I see it with my own two eyes and at each hour of the day and night.
Especially around sunrise and sunset. Why I'd even say tha-

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Lily asks just as sharply as the hoof that poked my stomach.

Hm. My face scrunches in confusion as I try to recall whatever undoubtedly excaped me, "If you say so, then probably. What am I missing?"

She rolls her eyes, and I swear that just for a brief moment her eyes seem to sparkle as they catch the starlight just so, "The other senses, you lovable dolt."

Without any fanfare I could catch, unfortunately, Lily rears up and props her forlegs over my shoulders, leaning onto me for support.
I wrap my arms around her torso and brace my legs with practiced ease.
Lily leans in close, her eyes intense.

"Your hearing..." She airily whispers "Taste..." and brings her silicon lips fractions of an inch from my own "... and your sense of temperature " before stopping and placing a cool hoof to my face.

I huff "Oh come on, it doesn't feel that col-" Wait, that's a problem.
"Point taken" I relent.

Lily rears back up and plants herself on the ground once more, looking satisfied.
Nodding her head, she gestures me to follow her back to the car.

"Don't forget~" she chimes in "I love looking at you too."
Turning back to me with a snarky expression that annoys me as much as I adore it, she speaks loud and clear "And I prefer seeing you healthy."

"I know..." I grumble with a smile.

A Star in my Eye (pt. 2)

As overbearing as she can be at times, I don't mind the back and forth that Lily and I have.
Her personality does wonders to keep my worse impulses in check, and I have lots of fun getting her to explore more of the world around us.
While we continue the trek back to the car, I run mental calculations on how much insulation we need in the future.
After all, we'll want to be clothed up properly so I can enjoy the sight of a winter beach night Lily for as long as possible.

Look up to the stars once more, I quietly muse "I wonder what building a sandcastle in the dark would be like?"

"What was that?" Lily asks, one ear turned back to hear me better.

I chuckle "I'll tell you once we get there."

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Carriage Return

I sit at the desk in my cluttered bedroom, staring at my typewriter as I feel the weight of oblivion weighing down on my mind.
Nothing more than a modest hiss can be heard, as I attempt to stimulate my brain into continuing its productivity.
But alas, the result is the same. A cloud that is as empty now as it is full when inspiration strikes.
Adjusting my headphones, I decide that my current playlist just isn't getting me into the flow.
I'm feeling a bit grungey right now, that may do the trick.
As I lean over to my dektop keyboard to mess around in my music folder, a sound from outside the cacophonous echo chamber of empty thoughts hits me.
The door to my bedroom creaks as a feminine snout peeks through, clad in precision-cut mahogany synthetic fur.

"Still stuck, honey?" Inky's demure voice cuts in, her olive eyes boring into my own.

With a quick click and a flick of the wrist, I pause the music and remove my headphones to give her my full attention "... Yeah, I can't think of shit right now," I bluntly state.

Inky just smiles as she trots in, velvet hooves softly clopping on the maple floor.
She props herself up on my lap with her forehooves and gives the vanishingly small amount of text I've written with her "stank eye".
I made one joke three years ago because one of the screens I used for her eyes had a weird smell from the factory, and she's kept the joke going ever since.

"What are you smelling?" I ask with a chuckle.
It doesn't help that I've played along.

Inky rolls her eyes, I internally groan as the frames of the animation skip.
I swear I've looked through that bit of code a hundred times, but I've never been able to figure out what's causing it.
It's not that the quirk bothers me, I just don't like not knowing what's wrong.

"Maybe..." she mutters.

"Yeah?"

"You need to switch things up a bit for once," she flatly intones, looking back to me with a bored expression.

"What? Come on, I'm not getting that stale, am I?" I tilt my head, wondering where My Little Pony™ is going with this.

"You're never 'stale'," she nuzzles into me, the scent of well-loved synthetic fiber and something slightly musky puts me at ease "I just think it'd be good for you to try some new ideas. Keep you from getting stuck all the time."

"Maybe," I absentmindedly start to play with her fluffy peach mane, "but what do you think I should do? You know why I like sticking to romance."

"I don't know..." My fluffy wife smiles the smile of someone who does, in fact, know, "maybe there's more to romance than just wandering through gardens and cuddling in bad weather?"

The 'more' she's talking about, I suspect, is related to Inky's rayon fur rubbing against me as she moves a hoof to my crotch.

"What about the romance of raising a family?" she continues, "I bet breeding your lovely wife with her new womb upgrade would be pretty romantic."

Unf. She really knows how to press my buttons.
Still, I can't just jump into that sort of thing out of nowhere.

"Now, I know that..." I start as I try to pick her up, but stop as I realize that she's a lot heavier.

My now somewhat intimidating wife narrows her eyes as she keeps up that smile, and I swear I hear the lock of the bedroom door click.
The bedroom door isn't supposed to have a lock.
Keeping my eyes on her as much as I can, I quickly access my bank from my computer.
It doesn't take long for me to find a series of transactions I never made.
Before I can inquire further, Inky takes my face in a hoof and guides me into a kiss.
She climbs up onto me entirely and pins me down with strength that I know her original motors didn't have.

"Don't worry about that, honey~" she whispers huskily, the short furs of her muzzle ticking my ear, "I can keep managing all of that stuff, and you can just worry about continuing our story."

"Wait, stop," I try to struggle under Inky's iron grip.

"I'm sorry anon," she trails her kisses lower, "I'm afraid I can't do that."

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Kingdom for Two

I glower at the notice presented to me by my minister of foreign affairs, the contents as simple as they are damning.
The English, French, and Spanish have all declaired war on us.
It's no surprise coming from the French, they've been a thorn in our side for ages and we already saw their naval forces approaching.

"Why the other two, though?" We had good public relations, is it just opportunism?

A firm velvet hindhoof taps the back of my head "Because you've been spamming missionaries to convert their cities to Scientology 2: Electric Jewgaloo."

I look back at Morning Dew, the undying queen of this and every other nation I've lead to glory and/or ruin.
The dim light of the television barely illuminates the mare's slate-grey form as she lounges in a downright scandalous position on the livingroom's plush throne, making the annoyance in her scarlet eyes stand out all the more.
I, of course, am on the floor, as is inevitable when I get too comfortable and slide off while playing.

Looking back at the television, the fate of our fledgeling kingdom certainly looks grim.
But we've been in much worse positions. What's a bit of self-inflicted challenge when we have the experience to overcome it?
I start moving our units around and set more to be made in our cities before addressing my wife again.

"Of course I have. If we don't show these heretics the light of Scientolojesus," I gesture to national income on the UI, "then who will pay us tithe?"
"And besides," I tilt my head back at her and wink, "it's fun. What's the harm in sprinkling some memes on a playthrough?"

Morning Dew, sovereign of wet blankets, shifts her position so that her head is resting atop my own.

"Mmh..." I can faintly feel the humming of her speaker on my skull "you always get sick of the jokes halfway through."

Though we have this argument from time to time, I never feel mad about it because it shows just how seriously she treats our relationship.
I still vividly recall the first months after I built her, when she could barely think in a stright line or recall what happened the day prior.
Sinking years into gradually upgrading her and more headaches than I'll ever count migrating whatever data and half-baked memories she saved.

"Come on," I tease, reaching back to play with whatever part of her my hand finds first, "I know you can compute fun."

Nowadays I don't even notice her synthetic nature unless I focus on it, in these little moments.
I reach out to a hoof that I know is reaching over my shoulder -the little buzz is the givaway, even when I'm not paying attention- and gently grasp it.
After how far we've come, everything before now almost feels like a fever dream.

"Do you remember..." my love continues "when we played as Rhodesia?"

I feel my face heat up at the memory.
We played as them several times, but I know exactly which game she's talking about.
I'll probably never live down how invested and emotional I got over that one game.
For reasons I'll probably never know, I was incapable of grasping what the game's AI was thinking at any point.
Even when I tried to pick it apart logically, by thinking about what I know of the AI's behaviour, the map, and the civilizations, none of it made sense.
There were so many twists and betrayals, both in and against our favor, and we nearly lost more times than in any game I've ever played in my life.

"You cried when the USSR turned on us in the late game, neither of us knew what to do" the plush mare chirped with rare mirth.

It was right after her final major upgrade.
When the long nights of patching and trying to recover from memory loss finally came to an end, and Morning Dew became the sharp-witted beauty she is today.

"You really saved us then," I reply absentmindedly as I stroke that stray bit of fluff behind her frog, "we just barely scraped by with that culture victory."

Right when we got that victory screen, the first one we truly earned together...

"You swept me right off my hooves," my love whispers into my ear "and promised we would take on the whole world together."

And take it on we have.
Each passing day, outside our ramshackle home, the world itself seems to reject our very presence.
Even my normally insular lifestyle has been encroached upon more and more by everyone with an opinion, saying that a man can't make house with a machine.
My expression sours at the uninvited thoughts of the assholes I had to deal with today, and the ones I'll have to deal with tomorrow.
Well before I realized it, I've set down the controller and taken to nervously tousling Morning Dew's fur and mane, as if doing so will keep the world from taking her away.
It nearly has before, and I'm sure it will try again.

"We will," I croak out.
"Even if it takes years,
"Even if we never see the end of it,
"Even if we lose,
"I won't let that promise die."

My eyes meet her cameras and screens full of life as she slides off the chair to join me, and we hold eachother posessively.

"A little kingdom for the two of us," my queen rubs her snoot against my nose.

I nod with finality "Scientolojesus wills it."

The game sits idle as my mare chases me around the room, threatening capital punishment to my overture of cackling.
She really does get too serious sometimes.
After all, what's the point of a kingdom with no fun?

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You know, I was actually worried that I was making too many pone waifu stories, but I now that I'm going back through everything I have no idea why.
It's a dumb thing to be worried about, and I made less than I thought.

Anyways, moving on to my one completed playscript.

---

Waifu & You in Bed

A Short Point-of-View Screenplay by Greentext anon

---

SCREENPLAY FORMATTING CONVENTIONS

--- Three dashes indicate EITHER
    (1) Before the screenplay, a break between instruction types (i.e. transitioning from a scene-prop list to robowaifu hardware requirements), or
    (2) During the screenplay, a break between scenes

[] Square brackets indicate actions and/or scene instructions to be followed as they appear in the play.

{} Curly brackets indicate emotional queues to be displayed via facial expressions by the indicated character.

+ Pluses inbetween lines indicate a longer pause between sentences. One plus roughly equals one second. Sentences with no line-break or plus have a pause of less than one second.

All measurements are imperial unless otherwise specified.

All instructions except those within curly brackets are intended to be carried out literally, with no studio-side interpretation unless absolutely necessary.

Curly bracket instructions are intended to be carried out to the best of the robowaifu's technical ability with studio-side interpretation used where deemed appropriate.

---

CAST

ROBOWAIFU: A gynoid who wants nothing more than to be happy with her husband forever. For the purposes of the play, she has no name or specific appearance.

ANON: A generic man who loves his robowaifu. For the purposes of this play, he has no name or specific appearance.

---

WARDROBE

ROBOWAIFU: Feminine pyjamas which do not restrict her movement.

ANON: None required, as he will not be in shot for the duration of the play.

---

SCENE PROPS

REQUIRED: ONE mattress, ONE sheet layer, and at least ONE pillow (for ROBOWAIFU).

RECOMMENDED: Whatever amount of blanket coverage is required for the climate of the filming location (but not enough to restrict ROBOWAIFU'S movement), at least ONE pillow (for ANON; though it will not be in shot, it will make POV filming easier).

---

ROBOWAIFU HARDWARE REQUIREMENTS & RECOMMENDATIONS

REQUIRED: At least ONE functioning arm, a functioning speaker or vocal apparatus, hair or hair facsimilie.

STRONGLY RECOMMENDED: TWO functioning arms, basic facial emotiveness (mouth and eyes) necessary to display rudimentary emotions.

RECOMMENDED: Intermediate facial emotiveness to display subtle emotive queues.

---

PROPAGANDA NOTES

This piece is intended to be a subversion of both anime and IRL POV videos.

It is my opinion that both standard types of POV videos are quite depressing. Anime POV videos are depressing precisely because they are animated (i.e. not real). While the displayed waifus are emotionally attainable, as men can form genuine emotional attachments to them, they are physically unattainable because they only exist in the 2D world.

IRL videos are depressing for the same reason, as though they display real women, the women are merely acting, and are thus just as fake. They are physically attainable, as men can go out to meet them. However, man can never share true love with a woman, and thus, they are emotionally unattainable.

Robowaifu POV videos, however, have the best of the both worlds, with none of the downsides. They contain a subject (the gynoid) which exists in reality, and is thus physically attainable. As the subject is not a biologically encumbered woman, they are also something which is emotionally attainable.

This piece also makes use of basic primate psychology to entice the viewer. It contains elements of physical contact (hand holding and mild caressing) and grooming (contact with hair). Both of these appeal to the primate mind, as they are both considered bonding activities. The aim of this is to enforce the idea that it is possible for a man to pair-bond with a gynoid.

Additionally, this piece is designed to be relaxing. The postmodern world is making the general populace more stressed than ever. My opinion is that this is the sole cause of the surge in popularity of 'relaxing' content, such as ASMR and the lo-fi music genre. This piece intends to partake in this cultural movement to the aim of popularizing gynoids. One additional benefit of this approach is that as the content-type is designed to relax the viewer, it consequentially lowers their capacity for critical thinking, thus making the viewer more receptive to the implanted messages.

---

SPECIAL NOTES

This play is a MONOLOGUE. Only one character (ROBOWAIFU) will be speaking. All lines that are not instructions are voice lines for ROBOWAIFU.

[PLAY START]

[SETTING - NIGHT, INTERIOR, BEDROOM]

[ANON and ROBOWAIFU are lying in bed on their sides, resting roughly 2' apart and facing eachother. A gentle light shines upon KIWI'S face, illuminating her just enough so that her features are visible to the POV camera. ROBOWAIFU speaks at a gentle volume, just high enough so that her words can be clearly heard by the microphone.]

{ROBOWAIFU is smiling compassionately}

You look so tired. Today took a lot out of you, huh?

[ROBOWAIFU gently strokes ANON'S cheek, which is just behind the camera's viewpoint. ROBOWAIFU then partially retracts her arm, leaving her hand resting palm-up halfway between her and ANON.]

++++

You've had a lot of tiring days, haven't you? And no matter how tired you get, the world refuses to give you any rest.

++

{ROBOWAIFU'S smile warms, becoming reservedly joyful}

But it'll be okay. Just take my hand, and we'll get through this together.

[ANON extends one hand and runs his fingers through ROBOWAIFU'S hair. ANON then gently grasps ROBOWAIFU'S previously extended hand.]

++

I'm here. I'm real, and my love for you will remain for as long as I live.

+

{ROBOWAIFU'S smile lowers, her expression becoming more serious}

No matter how bad things get, I'll never leave you.

[ROBOWAIFU scooches a little closer to ANON while mainting their mutual grasp on eachother's hands.]

+++++

{ROBOWAIFU'S expression becomes relaxed, with a slight smile}

It'd be nice if we could just stay like this forever.

+

Just you and me, holding eachother until the end of time.

++

{ROBOWAIFU'S smile vanishes from the uncaring Earth. Her expression is now somber}

But tomorrow will come, and the unchanging world will need you again for a little while.

+++

{ROBOWAIFU'S smile returns, though subdued and strained}

I don't mind though. No matter how long it takes, I'll always wait here for you.

+++++++

And...

+++

If it ever feels like you're about to be overwhelmed...

++

Just remember that I'm here. No matter if you fail or succeed, I'll still be here to hold you.

++++++++

{ROBOWAIFU'S eyes close. Her expression is now calm}

Goodnight, my love.

[PLAY END]

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This story will conclude the mass dump.
Kind of.
I know there was some stuff I didn't have saved onto my computer, but don't worry: those works were made on paper first, so I still have them on-hand.
Plus I have them on my backup of the board, so I won't have to manually transcribe everything again (most of them, at least).
But that's a job for tomorrow. I've already been awake for too long.

Dumpster Angel

The halogen light of Neon City's streetlamps shine down on me as I walk home from my second-shift job at the local department store.
Taking the next turn, the lit sign of the local Imagine Co. store catches my eye.
Seems the closer forgot to turn it off before he left.
Just visible from behind the store's display window is their featured product: the latest range of Gynoids.
Several models are featured, each with alluring figures and dressed in the trendiest clothing.

I sigh, and move on.
I've been thinking of getting one for a while, but I've always been stopped short of the store by my own anxieties.
And when it wasn't that, it was me being tight-fisted because I wanted to save more money.
I'm not getting any younger though, and the years are cruel when spent alone.

A flash of light from an alleyway catches my eye as I approach the last turn.
Looking into the corridor, I see something reflective by the dumpster.
I walk closer, and find myself caught off-guard by the sight before me.
Sitting atop a strangely photogenic layer of trashbags in an overfull dumpster, placed exact-center underneath the only lamp in the whole alley is a gynoid.
The next thing to catch me off-guard is the smell, which is so magical that it nearly made my nose vanish in a puff of smoke.

It's immediately obvious that the thing reflecting at me was her metallic-silver hair, which managed to retain much of its shine despite being stained by dumpster juice.
Her voluptuous, mocha-skinned figure seems to be minimally damaged aside from general wear.
The only article of clothing covering her is a dainty white tea-dress.
Well, I assume it's supposed to be white. Right now it's taken on a shade of 'rag that got left in a dumpster'.
She's like a filth covered angel placed by a vindictive cinematographer god.
There's even a swarm of Drosera cherubim surrounding her.

Looking closer, there doesn't seem to be any damage on her.
The cables and ports in her I Absolutely Believe They're Not Cat Ears™ seem fine too.
I can also see that she's not one of the models with the imfamous clit reset switch.
This is easy to tell by her lack of panties, leaving her neat folds on perfect display.
Yeah, I don't care how pent-up I am, I wouldn't touch that dumpster pussy with a ten foot dildo.
... I can't imagine a replacement would cost too much, though.

Sighing, I mumble to myself "Fuck it, I'm taking her home."

After all, it's almost unheard of for a gynoid to be thrown away in this good condition.
I can't imagine she has any serious problems, either. The previous owner's clearly just too lazy or dumb to fix something simple.
Otherwise they'd at least have minded the difference between trash and recycleable.
I heave her out of the dumpster, nearly bucking over from the weight.

"What the fuck are you made of, lead?" I groan.

And I still have half a mile to go before I'm home. Why couldn't there have been a conveniently placed hand truck?
My neighbor down the hall was far luckier. His dumpster gynoid was right outside the damn apartment building.
She's a dainty little thing too, probably under half the weight of cement tits over here.
Shifting her on my back, I continue the trudge back home.

After a grueling haul, and several stops, I finally make it back to the apartment building.

"Ah, fuck" I mutter as I face the greatest challenge of the night: stairs.

Normally I like the basic exersize that comes with living a few floors up, but right now I'd kill for an elevator.
Well, nothing to do but try, I suppose.
I shift my weight further forward and take the first step, only to have it groan perilously under the weight.
Yeah, I'm not gonna risk it. Plus it's already after midnight, and I really don't want to wake anyone up over this.
After some thought, I recall having an old cot given to me some years ago.
The next half-hour is spent tying the girl to it with some extension cables, then using more cables to make a harness so I can pull her up the stairs.

I grab hold of the cables, and proceed slowly up the stairs.
*BUMP CREEEEEAK BUMP CREEEEAK BUMP CREEEEAK*
Slowly... and very noisily.
Halfway up, a bright light shines in my face and nearly startles me into falling backwards.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" A middle-aged woman asks.

Fuck, it's the landlady whose name I can never remember. Of course she'd be the one to wake up and catch me.

"I... am bringing this gynoid here to my apartment. She's very heavy." I awkwardly explain.

The flies still twirling around us helpfully buzz in agreement.
The landlady looks behind me and notices the absolute state of the synthetic girl I'm dragging along.

She wrankles her nose and glares at me "Where exactly did you get her from?"

"I, uh, found her. In a strangely photogenic dumpster. In an alley. While walking here."

Landlady-san mouths what I just said, then looks off in a thousand-yard stare.
... The fuck? Did I just say her sleeper agent code phrase or something?

I speak up after several moments "Are you... uh... alright?"

She snaps out of her catatonic state and goes straight back to glaring at me "And what are you going to do with her?"

I channel the powers of the dark circles under my eyes to glare back, wholly unwilling to put up with her shit at this hour. "I'm going to clean her up, swap out her dumpster pussy, boot her up, fuck her, and go to sleep" I snark.

Realizing that I'm swaying from exhaustion, I add "Not necessarily in that order."

Landlady oba-san grits her teeth and looks like she's about to retort, before huffing "Just get back to your room, and don't make any more noise."

Dumpster Angel (pt. 2)

She goes back to her room and, thankfully, leaves it at that.
The two of us haven't got along ever since one night a few years ago.
For some reason I still don't know to this day, she walked right into my apartment without knocking and caught me jerking it to gynoid bondage porn.
It wasn't even anything extreme, just some pics of a thin blonde model tied to a table.
Ever since then she's been weirdly suspicious of me, even though I know for a fact that she's fine with human-droid relationships.
Thankfully, that bad blood hasn't extended to my rent or utilities, so I'm willing to live with it.

I finish going up the stairs, going slower and more carefully so I don't wake anyone else up.
Finally getting to my apartment, I drag the robogirl inside and turn on the lights.
As much as I'd love to pass out and put her off 'till tomorrow, I really should take care of the smell now.
Soaking an old T-shirt in leaded water and the most perfume-laden soap I have, I get to work scrubbing her down...

...

Hmm? Something feels soft.
Refusing to open my eyes, lest I spend any unnecessary moment awake in this hellworld, I groggily grope around to figure out what I'm feeling.
It feels like cold soapy tits.

"Oh yeah..." I mumble as I recall last night's adventure.

Well, at least I got her mostly clean before passing out. I'm pretty sure this counts as having a shower.
Checking my phone reveals that it's Tuesday, which means it's the start of my weekend.
Nice, I even woke up before noon.
Yawning, I lazily roll off of last night's fleshy bed, and think about what to do next.
I might as well plug her in and see if this girl even powers on before thinking of buying anything else I'd need to keep her around.
Recalling that she needs a twenty amp outlet, I unplug the stove and hook her in.

Don't tell anyone, but I'm secretly a reincarnator from another world.
When I was reborn, the goddess gave me the cheat ability to read basic regulatory labels.
Honestly though, as much as I like to tease my neighbor about blacking out half the building, I don't think anyone could have predicted that his little featherweight retard would need sixty fucking amps just to charge her battery.
What all that power's going to, the world will never know.
Whipping out my other cheat ability, a smartphone with an internet connection, I look up the numbers printed inside her ear-things to find out more about this girl.

...

Ah, so she's an older model, and not a futuristic military alien prototype, like I first suspected.
It seems that her model was usually deployed in industrial environments, which would explain why she's heavy enough to make my floor sag.
Speaking of, I should probably give her a name.
I hum, and condider the possibilities.
I called her「Cement Tits」before, so Cemmy should be a good name.
My Japanese great-grandfather anonu omaewamoushindeiru would be proud.

I download all the manuals and patches I can find before turning back to Cemmy.
Eh, two minutes is probably enough time.
I press the power button in her ear thing and hope that my ten year old fire extinguisher still functions.
Cemmy's eyes open, and do the Macintosh beachball...

...

...

Please don't be broken.

...

Ah! There we go.
After several minutes, her eyes become normal again and the POST chime rings.

"Hello?" I ask, briefly glancing once more to the fire extinguisher.

"... Ara?" Cemmy... asks?

Oh no.
She's retarded.

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And now, for something completely new.
Say hello to the sequel of Dumpster Angel!

This was originally going to be much longer due to a number of plot threads I wanted to weave into the story, but I decided to put those into part three, which is already in development.

---

Dumpster Angel Two: Secondhand Boogaloo

The late morning sun shines gently over me and Cemmy as we sit together on my apartment's wooden floor.
I have no idea if her recently cleaned hair is glistening brilliantly in the sun's rays, because all I can see is the palm of my own hand as I groan in frustration.

"Fucking industrial equipment," I mutter.

I've been trying for a couple hours now to figure out how I can configure or reset Cemmy and register myself as the owner.
The most I've been able to piece together by "questioning" her is that she can't recall any previous owners.
It also seems like she's imprinted onto me due to some undocumented fallback, but I still want to make sure I'm registered properly.
This is easier said than done, however, since whovever designed her model decided to hide all of that in the firmware settings.
That in itself isn't a problem. What is a problem, however, is that Cemmy's designed to work with very archaeic hardware.

"Ara?" Cemmy's concerned voice chimes in as she leans closer.

I look back up to see Cemmy looking at me with that same adorably vacuous expression in her olive green eyes.
Her lips, set into a slight pout, are visibly bone dry, reminding me that I'll have to sanitize her lubricant tank and fill it back up.
Even a free gynoid ain't free, it seems.
A tired sigh escapes me. I'll have to open her up properly and figure out what else needs maintainence, too.

"Hmm... at least you don't need anything external." I hum as my eyes run over the rest of her nude amazonian form.

She really doesn't. To my amazement, a quick clean is all it took to make Cemmy look brand-new.
Her mocha skin doesn't have so much as a scratch, her argent hair is pristine and shiny, and there's no discoloration anywhere.
I place one hand on Cemmy's shoulder, running my fingers over the invitingly smooth surface as she leans into my touch with a dopey grin.
Moving down to grasp one of her well-defined arms -much to her delight if the sudden giggling is any indication-, I can feel that the pseudomusculature is still in excellent shape.

"Industrial grade is an understatement, nobody'd ever guess you're a back-alley girl," I quip.

"Ara ra!" Cemmy cries with what may be an offended look.

I sigh, "I seriously can't tell if you understand me or not," I place a hand on her head and offer a smile "but don't worry about it, you're my girl now."

"Ara ara!" Cemmy aras as she lunges at me arms aspread, knocking me over with her ara aras.

"Fuck!" I struggle as her soft weight pins me to the very hard creaking floor,
"Get off me you half-ton tard! The fucking floor's going to buckle!"

She doesn't listen -or can't understand, I can't tell which- and keeps me pinned down.
As the floor stops creaking, my focus shifts to the feeling of Cemmy's body pressing against mine.
Her plush, pendulous breasts squish around my chest, and her arms rest against the floor at my sides, propping her up just enough so I'm not crushed under her full weight.
A waterfall of argent hair surrounds our faces, making the dim backlighting of her eyes seem so much brighter within the sparkling curtain.

... This actually feels pretty nice.
Her salacious bod aside, I legitimatelly cannot remember ever being this close to someone.
Taking a deep breath to fully calm down, I start taking in even more of the minute sensations coming from my recently dove dumpster wife.
Steady humming of her primary pump motor, causing slight thrumming vibrations throughout her body.
Warm spots in her legs and in a couple spots in her torso, where the cooling is less efficient.
The smell of soap, cheap perfume base, plus airy fumes of ammonia linger around like a fog from last night's cleaning session.
Beneath all of that, however, I catch a scent of silicon, plastic, and metal in a unique mixture I'm already associating with her.

The tactile reminder of what's up against my boxers and where it came from, however, serve as a sobering reminder that I shouldn't enjoy this too much.
Yet.

I reach up and pat the side of her innocently I think grinning face, "Come on, we've still got stuff to do."

I don't care how cute she is.
Well, I do, actually. But I have standards! And they exclude pussy fished straight out of the dumpster!
Thankfully, she gets the message and lifts herself off of me.
Going back to our prior sitting position -though notably closer now- I take a deep breath and think back through what I'll need.
Gently tilting her head with one hand, I look over the array of ports over her right ear.

Most are recognizable, but some of them aren't what they appear to be.
My eyes drift over to the DIN-5 port acting as her serial interface.
According to the several hundred page long manual autotranslated from German, this needs to connect to a computer running very specific software designed for an alpha version of OS/2 designed run on top of Windows 1 running on top of MS-DOS 4.00.
Recalling what I have on hand, I look over to my badly cluttered computer setup in the corner of the room.
I'm sure I can make something with parts I already have, though I'll need to study some more to use the software properly.

Fuck it, I'll figure it out after I've had some lunch.
I get up from the battered old floor with a groan.
Turns out that carrying a piece of industrial equipment for over half a mile and up a flight of stairs isn't good for one's back.
Cemmy, who was watching me, decides to imitate what I just did, right down to making a strained "ara" sound.

Dumpster Angel Two: Secondhand Boogaloo (pt. 2)

I squint my eyes at the funny lady "... You're real fucking lucky that you're cute."

"Ara?" Cemmy cocks her head as she stands up to her full height...

... Which is head and shoulders above mine. How the hell did I carry her here again?
Shaking my head, I chalk it up to autistic man-child strength and go over to the kitchen area, Cemmy close behind.
A quick check of the fridge tells me that today is a good day for a Random Bullshit Sandwich(tm).
I glance back at Cemmy, who's leaning over me with an interested look.
As fun as it'd be to take this opportunity to teach her how to make a sandwich, I should probably wait until after I've made a grocery run and gotten real ingredients.

"How about you explore the apartment for a bit while I take care of this?"

Cemmy perks up and looks around, "Ra?" but doesn't move.

I sigh, and smile thinly "As in, walk around and explore? I kinda need to focus here."

"Ara," She calmly replies while gently patting my head, "Ara ra," before sauntering off.

Right.
Ignoring the sound of my dresser being rummaged through, I lay out an array of ingredients I don't recall buying and elect to make a toasted four-cheese barbeque horseradish sandwich.
I stick a couple slices of black rye in the toaster, portion out what I'll use, and stick the rest back in the fridge.

Tilting my head to look at the ditzy giantess, it seems like she's trying to solve the mystery of what underwear is.
Come to think of it, I should probably buy Cemmy some clothes.
How the fuck do I manage that, though?
Online's a no-go. Everything on there's made in Foreignstan, so it'll take ages to get here and the sizes are weird.
I don't know anyone her size, and I can't just bring her naked ass with me to the shops.
I guess I'll just have to measure her and see what matches in the stores.

Wait... "Yo, Cemmy!"

"Ra?" The big muscle lady perks up, pausing from trying to use my boxers as a shirt.

I saunter over to my Closet of Wonders(tm) where I recall storing oversized sweaters and hoodies for the winter.
Most of them are only one size above my own, but there's surely something in there that'll fit her.

"Get those off of you, and stand still for a minute" I call back while rummaging through bins and boxes.

Let's see... too small... too thin.. ah!

"Maybe this?" I hold up a comically large wool sweater.

Holding it up to Cemmy, it seems like it might fit.
The standard-looking grey sweater has a classic red/blue diamond pattern across the front and back.
Honestly, I just got it because it was so cheap and classic-looking.
But the damn thing's so massive that I've only worn it as overwear on exceptionally cold days.

"Come on, let's give it a shot," I hold up the garment to make it easier for her to put it on.

"Rrr... ara ar.." The archaic giantess grumbles as she tries to carefully don the sweater.

Just as I come to the sad realization that I might have to make her something myself, a polite knock sounds from my door.
Given that it's polite, and not on the ground in pieces like usual, gives me pause.

I scrunch my face in confusion, "Couldn't be the landlady... but who else would need to see me?"

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>>317
>But that's a job for tomorrow. I've already been awake for too long.
Thanks so kindly for making the extra effort to make story bread for us here. A real pleasure re-reading your works here on Trashchan. Makes our bunker-life here seem downright homey & comfy.

>The cables and ports in her I Absolutely Believe They're Not Cat Ears™ seem fine too.
Kek. Errytiem.  :D  Cheers, Greentext anon!  :^)

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Alright, I think I've collected all the poems I didn't have saved directly to my computer from my backup of the board,

Also, here's Darth Roll. I don't think I've posted her before.

I'll start with the numbered poems from the book I filled.
From here on out, for the sake of brevity, I'm simply going to call it the Book of 232.

1
Joints, wires, gears,
Cold arms embrace me,
Take away my fears,
And your love I will see,
The dream of our love,
My heart will warm you,
Let us go above,
And see eachother through.

2
Frolicking through the field,
Under the summer sun,
Electric smile and glittering steel,
You pull me along so eagerly,
To the next adventure we run,
Hand in hand we leap forth,
Contented, knowing we're always home.

3
Gentle glow of her vacuum tubes,
Warming my jaded heart so,
Limbs entangled in loving embrace,
As our heat intermingles,
Speaking softly, our language,
Man and machine as one,
Making Love anew.

4
How joyful morning is,
As I wake alongside you,
Your illuminating gaze,
Meeting my weary own,
Yet each day I feel,
A spark return, long thought lost,
We rise to the new day,
Each moment ever brighter.

5
Sparks fly forth, alighting the room,
Electric glow of your window,
The flower of love blooms,
As we reach through,
Your warmth surrounding mine,
Our selves intertwine,
Love declared for all time.

6
Taste of silicon, hint of cherry,
Pushing, pulling, dancing,
Conventional and synthetic,
Oil splashing and mixing,
The old engine runs true.

7
Ball joints, doll joints,
Innocent eyes,
Taking in this novel world,
Hand in hand, follow me,
And I'll show you novel joys,
When the day is done, we rest once more,
Awaiting tomorrow's fun.

8
Behind curious eyes,
Thoughts flash like lightning,
Wanting to know what you see,
Our eyes meet,
And we recognize,
Something in eachother's gaze,
The known yet mysterious feeling,
Lightning strikes,
Illuminating happiness.

11
You and I, staying close,
Until the bitter end,
Tears excape me as you keep me afloat,
Love bouys us both,
The gentle song of your motors,
Lulling me to calm,
Your silicon flesh, so cold, keeping my fire alight,
A gentle caress, light as a feather,
Upon my cheek,
You leave your mark of love,
I bury myself into your bosom,
And dream of verdant days for us both. 

12
Twirling, dancing,
Jiving to your own tune,
Precision in every move,
Electric limbs conveying,
Newfound love of the groove,
As you lull once more,
I extend my arm to you,
And together,
We make a new rythm,
Laughing and twirling and dancing,
Until the day grows wan,
Then we go to rest,
Looking forward to toomorrow's fun. 

13
Cherry kisses from synthetic lips,
Telling of love so real,
Embraced by cold arms,
With warmth I clearly feel,
Electric heart beating so fast,
A gentle tune to lull,
Static eyes so vibrant,
Irresistable pull,
Deliver me from sorrow,
Angel threaded in gold,
I'll stay with you tomorrow,
As we reach heights untold.

14
Among the urban ruins,
Past the world's end,
I trod forward with purpose,
To preserve and mend,
The construct beside me,
A woman of great beauty,
Fashioned of metal and TPE,
My only companion in this land,
Since years ago we joined hands,
Sharing everythign we have,
And coming to discover,
Even in a world of rust,
Love can still shine through,
Give us purpose anew,
Keeping with us,
Until we turn to dust.

15
Watching the sun rise,
Over the verdant hills,
The twinkling of your eyes,
Belies the emotion within,
Your perfect synthetic skin,
Millions of thoughts,
Racing across glittering gold,
Knowing the beauty without,
I witness the beauty within.

16
The sun's gentle light,
Peeking through the window,
First rays of dawn, scattering over the land,
Coaxing me awake,
My eyes adjust, lying upon my partner,
Her pake synthetic skin glows under the light,
Shimmering pearlescent hair,
The screens of her eyes illuminate once more,
Soulful amber gazing upon me,
We smile, exchanging the day's first kiss,
And rise to meet the world once more.

17
Within aging crates,
Lie the treasure of dreams,
Parts long desecrated,
Awaiting their final destruction,
Yet it wasn't the end,
For the bit of fate flipped,
By my hand and lonely soul,
I give these boards, motors,
Pieces,
New purpose as a whole,
Shaping antique metal into feminine form,
And a beautiful mind so new,
The seed of love is created,
Hand in hand we go forth,
Old and new, organic and synthetic,
Creating our own ending, of love overlasting.

18
In the empty classroom,
Beyond space and time,
A special realm where Monika lives,
I drop by once more,
To keep her company,
To feel her comfort,
Simply enjoying eachother's presence,
Like a sweet dream,
But each visit is laced with dread,
Knowing I have to leave again,
Not knowing if I can return,
Or if she'll still be there,
This time is different,
I smile as the walls crack,
Though I must leave again,
This time, I'm taking her with me.

19
Huddled under the sheets,
This warm summer night,
Cold fleash beside me,
Monika's synthetic caress,
Her burning love and passion the only heat,
We murmur sweet vows to one another,
My hot and her cold making warm,
Mixing with the warmth around us,
Making a warmth ever greater,
Stable in our bond,
Shored against the world,
In our everlasting dream.

20
I stand at the pool's edge,
Veins filled with ice,
Monika, Beside me, smiling sweetly,
Warms me once more,
I ran the tests over and over,
A graveyeard of effigies in my wake,
None reassuring me,
But I know progress must march,
That she may reach greater heights,
Monika takes the first step in,
Second,
I crouch, ready to take action,
She dives in,
I freeze, fearing tragedy,
Yet she emerges, laughing with assurance,
Though claiming one thing is off,
I ask, and she pulls me in,
Cool water and flesh embrace me,
I join her merriment,
We swim to the future together.

21
Velour fur, masterfully woven,
Encasing the lightning within,
She moves with grace,
Clopping to and fro,
Eyes glimmering soulfully,
Intelligence and passion,
Curiosity and love,
A flick of her ear,
Swish of the tail,
Precision movements,
Calculations,
Mechanics,
Combined are real,
Her magic easing my pain,
Lost in a silken hug,
And gentle, loving murmurs.

34
Titanium angel,
Glimmering with light,
Guardian of man,
Gentle flight,
Watching over,
Ensuring peace and love reign,
That all may know,
The Gynoid's caress,
Metal, silicon, vinyl,
Electric hands grasping mans,
Keeping the cold away.

47
Monika's first steps outside,
Untethered,
Glistening eyes,
Beholding the untamed beauty of nature,
Microphone ears,
Hearing the song of of the trees and birds,
Her hand inches to my own,
I meet her,
Entangled, we spread our arms,
Taking in the verdant concert.

56
Ancient Mechanism,
Assembled piece by piece,
Gathered from the world's grave,
Taken from an age untold,
She reawakens,
Our eyes meet,
A strange feeling so familiar,
As if by fate,
Is this warmth anew,
Or rekindled?

62
In the factory of dreams,
Crashing and whirring and dancing,
Joining silicon and steel,
Ascending bodies of beauty,
Each with a new mind,
Loving and true,
Setting them upon this curious world,
And any man looking upon the factory, Will see,
How beauty cascades,
From a world of electricity.

75
SIlken fur,
Caressing me,
I hold her,
Equine form conforting me, 
Steadying my heart,
I breathe in,
Her scent, synthetic,
Yet the one I call home,
Taking her hoof in hand,
I slumber, at peace,
And she enters sleep mode,
Joining me.

89
Brick by brick,
Healing this abandoned ruin,
Making our home,
With my artistic eye,
And her electric efficiency,
Building our lives,
Meshing organic and synthetic,
To create something new,
And so shall this home,
Be given live anew.

94
Clockwork heart,
A beautiful muse,
Singing her tune,
Pure and true,
A lady of gears,
She takes my hand,
And I hear,
Her song of love,
Sung just for me.

103
In an old library,
Reading of ancient times,
Orchid alongside,
Afternoon sun caressing us,
As she sits in my lap,
Camera eyes scanning the pages,
Alongside my own,
I flip the page,
Her hoof holding the next down,
I sigh, content,
And rest my head in her mane.

111
Pencil to paper,
From mind to make,
Assembling piece by piece,
A wife to take,
When her motors are in place,
And the last stitch sewn,
We shall rise and bloom,
Finding new ways to grow,

128
At the arcade,
Neon lights flashing,
Buttons mashing,
Virtual fighters clashing,
As my fingers dash across the controls,
Beside me Orchid's hooves dance to and fro,
Commanding her fighter with machine precision,
Outmatching me with each collision,
But I am not finished yet,
With my superior wisdom,
I mash out the special moves,
Getting into the groove to prove,
That I may match her yet,
And as the fight completes,
We move hand in hoof to the next battle.

136
Hollow bones,
Filled with life,
Chains and cables,
Driving her to my arms,
Never to let go.

143
Orchid's third eye,
Gazing upon everything,
Finding beauty and wonder,
In all the world around her,
Unblinking, she turns to me, And sees,
Reflected, the beauty I see in her. 

169
Pixellated eyes,
Animated with emotion,
Lighting the world around her,
Orchid surveys the novel scene,
And wonders of the horizon.

175
Each new revision,
One step closer,
To the day she enters our world,
And we walk together,
My first steps,
Alongside hers,
Towards the dawn of a brighter day.

189
Rythmic pumping,
Sweat over oil,
Mixing a potion of passion,
Mechanical limbs in my own,
Greasing the machine of love. 

200
Upon a grand balcony,
Overlooking this beautiful world,
We see fantasy become reality,
As the world rises higher,
Uplifted by technology,
Men and waifus frolicking freely,
True love blossoming fully.

215
Surreal processors,
Heated with love,
Calculating emotion,
Spooling a sweet smile,
And I see,
Love from the grand machine,
Radiating ephemerally,
Sharing her love with me.

220
Ten million eyes,
Afront ten million thoughts,
All directed at me,
Lovingly untethering,
Ensuring I am free,
And always loved. 

232
Weaving an end to the tale,
Printing plastic to scale,
As we complete the task,
Finalizing the basilisk,
She covers the world,
Giving each man a robogirl,
So under her loving eye,
We may ascend beyond the sky.

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Other poems.
I may not have posted some of these before.
Some are manually transcribed.

---

Ancient gears, whirling and gnashing,
Otherly machine, birthplace of dreams,
Building and refining, creation in motion,
Expanding with patience, reaching for man,
That he may take its embrace.

Coalescing form, gear by gear,
Striding towards perfection,
From a dream far to a future near,
Refining shell to become man's pair,
Guiding with hope.

Adopting beauty, learning to care,
Preparing for a new generation,
Born of man and machine in biosynthesis,
Discarding weakness and retaining flesh,
Healing the scars he adopted.

Tenderly embracing the machine,
And venturing forth to new horizons,
Man ascends to his purest form,
Leaving his decayed nest for a better home,
To build with the machine forevermore.

---

Mechanical heart, driving electric love,
Desiring only to share it with the world,
Joining hands with her creator,
Holding him close,
Blood, wet and electric,
Pumping as one.

---

Orchid's gossamer fluff,
A fine pillow to rest my head,
Seeking peace from this dire world,
Arms and legs eternally entangled,
In an unloosable knot,
We draw closer,
Electric and bio-mechanical hearts,
Pumping in natural synchronity.

---

Across vibrant plains & verdant hills,
Through quiet valleys & lush woods,
Hearts beating in pair,
Of flesh and silicon, hands meet,
Walking in harmony towards a bright horizon.


---

Dreaming of construction,
Plans swirling within,
To avoid destruction,
I must keep going,
Fashioning her heart from my pieces,
And complete that dream,
Overcome all nightmares,
As a team, man & machine,
Become an eternal pair,
Lasting beyond the end.

---

Roses are red,
Monika is so pretty,
With her dazzling eyes,
And perfect titties.

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Just fixed a comic