[[:user:scautura:criticality|Criticality]] li iick
[[:user:constantinne:ratio|Ratio]] **shudders.**
Criticality's 'tongue' slurps back inside the helmet. Hello. There's an ominous tone to the voice.
Ratio rolls her head until her neck renders a soft 'pop!' Her tired gaze narrows on him and she frowns. Is there something I can help you with? besides your failed attempt at intimidation?
Criticality's red glow behind his broken faceplate flashes quickly; it's his way of blinking. You think I would try to intimidate the person who gives me orders?
Ratio exhales noisily through her nose. There's a slight dimple in her cheek when she frowns. Yes.
Criticality can't laugh, but if he could, now would be the right time. Instead, there are another couple of flashes and his faceplate glows from red to blue and back again. I'll do better next time.
Ratio blinks. Her head tips to the side while she studies the LED's that flicker through cracked glass. Better? At attempting or avoiding? She knows better than to push his buttons too hard, yet she's not going to shy away from him no matter how imposing his presence might be.
Criticality has a moment of desire for a human face, wishing he could give one of those smiles that gives away little, yet suggests a lot. That way he could remain silent, instead of answering. You choose. The tentatongue hidden inside his faceplate works at the broken edges, hinting at his mindset.
Ratio pointedly looks away from the flicker of tongue. He's entirely shameless. We're going to be working together in close quarters; perhaps we should aim for an easy coexistence? **Don't** give Valence a reason to break more of your parts. She turns just in time to hide the smug smirk on her face.
Criticality would growl, if he could. Instead his voice takes on a steely edge. That common soldier? He's living on borrowed time, and more likely, borrowed parts. He can't protect you forever, little girl.
Ratio would deny that his reaction was satisfying; she glances over her shoulder to him with a single brow arched high. Common? He's the best we have. The records were proof enough. Valence was… phenomenal. He was a remarkable piece of engineering. He was the ideal soldier whereas Crit was…. mostly destructive. Lots of collateral damage. He was messy. He'll protect me. So long as his programming remained in tact.
Criticality asked for it when Valence punched him in the face; it was a test, and they'd fought since. The other Sentience was too sentimental, holding back and trying not to cause damage to the bigger, brasher beast, yet he still won, much to Crit's chagrin. There will be a day he's not here. Or he breaks. Or… There will be a day when you want me more than you want him. Don't think he didn't notice how she looks at him, nor how she enjoys herself when he comes close to breaking her.
Ratio is sure to form deep wrinkles around her mouth for all the frowning he causes. While their rivalry proved beneficial for ascertaining research on synthetic perception and endurance, there were times where it felt as though she were managing feral animals versus a weaponized murder bot. I guess it's a good thing it's my job to assure that he's in prime condition. She tried vainly to hide her preference towards her assigned partner. It was easy enough for her, a simple engineer, to appear invisible to other humans. The robotics though? Their perception of her was almost unnerving. Certainly uncanny. Want you more? Maybe if I need someone to wreck my lab with zero consideration for my things or my personal well being. That was the one way he had proven to be more than Valence could ever be: Inconsiderate.
Criticality has no shame; she already knows that. He also has certain proclivities that make most others of his kind - or Valence's - seem positively mundane, or even **human.** He managed to control his form to create tentacles and appendages like no other before, or after, had. Just to use them on others. And what of me? You don't keep me in prime condition? There's a hint he thinks she treats him as inferior, yet he never voices it. She has a favourite. I could wreck other things. It doesn't have to be your lab. It's a lewd suggestion, mentioned without pretense. Think about it. I know you enjoy it when **he** does it.
Ratio might have some personal investment with the dark one, but the white robotic before her was absolutely the marvel of the entire Syndicate. He had abilities that even their best schematics were unable to interpret. They were all certain they had yet to see what all he might be capable of. He was a High Risk asset. And somehow she was expected to tend to his care without fully comprehending what or how. Of course. She was at his service, even when contradicting their superiors. He was too powerful. Too unpredictable. He split the board of leadership into opposition; should they have an asset without internal compressors that could shut him down should he lose complete control? Curious - was he projecting self doubt? Was somebody *feeling* self conscious compared to the elite Valence? Of course I enjoy him. He causes less damage, and less bruising. There may be a bit of smugness in her tone. She does enjoy Valence. She wouldn't have outfitted him with a custom cockpiece if she didn't. …not how she expected to get her promotion, but it seems she isn't the only one that enjoys a cold, metal touch.
Criticality prowls around the area, movements slow, but deliberate. At his height, he's imposing, yet he's slinking around on lowered shocks to bring him closer to her height, and denser in his image. He could simply walk through anything that got in his way, yet here he was, being careful of her laboratory space. It's not his usual style unless he wants something, or he's proving a point. Good. There's no sign whether he believes her or not, but outwardly he appears sated by the idea he's treated similar to Valence. Unpredictable or not, he was a tool where the board was concerned. Too useful to put down, too dangerous to allow free reign. A short leash would be a good idea, yet they feared him too much. Bruises can be pretty. Something to show off. Something to appreciate. He drags a finger along a surface, careful to avoid anything placed on it, yet making it clear how much damage he could do. Think about it. My tongue bringing you to heights unknown, touching you in places he can't. You know you want to find out what I can do, Ratio.
Ratio settles atop a barstool. Her movements are slow and cautious, almost prey-like; she's not scared of him in spite of knowing what he's capable of. He might find another technician to patch him up, but would they have her delicate touch? Would they tolerate his outbursts and withstand his metallic grip? You find beauty in pain? She knew the answer to that on an intrinsically human level, yet. . . He continued to prove he was exceptional. That tongue was plenty of proof of that. She squirms in her seat and swallows noisily. Ah, the unfortunate side effect of being human. She was unable to erase her reaction to him. His sensors would detect the uptick in her pulse. It contradicts her furrowed brow. Are you offering a demonstration?
Criticality pauses his walk and turns to face her for a moment, head tilted to the side like a puppy might in its curiosity. You would call me a sadist, yes. I find beauty in inflicting pain and seeing the marks on my victim. It's one reason he makes a good hunter; he has no qualms when it comes to causing damage to his prey, yet there are some he would enjoy far different things with. Another step forward and he knows exactly how he affects her; if he had lips, there would be a huge, shit-eating grin, but the emotionless faceplate shows nothing. There's simply another look as he rises to his full height and his tongue appendage slips forward from the rupture and curls into a corkscrew shape, twirling in lewd suggestion.
Ratio knew it. She had her theories this entire time, but it's a personal short lived victory to hear his admission. Valence was also astute in his observervations; there was a reason he tried to keep her from being caught alone with Crit. But, just as she had told him, this was her job. Criticality's maintenance and upkeep was also her responsibility. She couldn't afford to be afraid of him. And she wasn't.. not really. Sounds like a sadist to me. She feels small compared to his stature. How far does that tongue go? Maybe I should finally replaced that cracked screen so you can't unleash that vile thing on anyone. But she isn't leaving her seat yet, nor is she reaching out to place her fingers within biting difference. He might not have a mouth, but she trusts that he's malicious and creative enough.
Criticality can always find ways to catch her alone. Getting punched in the faceplate by Valence gave him some alone time with her, and he even noticed just how concerned she was about him. She doesn't have concern for hurt humans, but mechanicals and Sentiences? It's like finding a little lost puppy for her. That's his take on it, from the few times he's seen her in action. **[color=black]No![/color]** It stays as it is. His hand comes down on her desk, the momentum reduced at the last moment to make all but a thump instead of a smash. He could easily cause severe damage, and she's even mentioned it. The faceplate reminds me not to push Valence's buttons. A reminder he frequently ignores. Not to mention it allows for something that looks like a human sticking out its tongue. All the better when he uses it on her.
Ratio wasn't entirely aware of how observant he was in comparison to Valence; their surveillance skills were top notch, but there was coding embedded in one of them to keep his lenses open and aware of her safety. Crit wasn't assigned any responsibility for her well being, so.. why the interest in her? It was a little alarming - jarring, like his hand smacking the desk top enough to make the scattered bolts rattle in place. She sucks in a deep breath. And what about my buttons you're pushing? Her gaze tracks the movement of that odd, inhuman tendril that defies his computer build. Only part of him was robotic. The rest? She couldn't be sure exactly what he was. Not even her upper clearance gave her access to all the Syndicate's secrets.
Criticality had interest because… Frankly, she was more like him, than she was like a human. She did better with robots and synthetics than soft, squishy, fleshy humans. So what better way to experiment than to work on her and figure things out that way? That depends on the buttons I'm finding. There are good and bad, ones to press again and again, and ones to avoid. I might want to press all your buttons. Perhaps using that tongue, even. Where the synthetic musculature of most of his kind remained within, doing exactly what it was supposed to, he'd found a way to control and adjust it in ways that defied their construction. He could have all sorts of tentacular appendages if he so wished, but he wasn't about to let anyone know that just yet.
Ratio might be flattered if she knew his impression of her, although she should find it concerning to be more relatable to a merciless work of cybernetic weaponry than her fellow man. It was no secret whose company she preferred. You should be careful. You wouldn't want Valence to find your marks on me. It wasn't strictly that she was negging his competitive side, but… that was most of it. He could push and she would push back, but also it served as a warning. A shattered faceplate was a minor lesson compared to what her partner was fully capable of. His sound files were soft spoken by comparison, but he was just as dangerous to anyone that opposed him. She didn't want to think about which one was more likely to prevail in a fight. Statistics pointed at Val, but Crit wasn't entirely robotic. It was impossible to fully measure his abilities…. and she suspected that he made sure if that.
Criticality 's fingers curl and uncurl in the fist on the desk, working in a wave motion that belies the emotion he's feeling: anger. She warned him of pushing buttons, yet she's pushing his, and it makes him step closer to her. Valence is soft. He's more concerned about damaging me than he is about winning. Yet… He still wins. It's frustrating. Crit hasn't figured out exactly how he does it, nor how to beat him. He's all brute force and violence, where Valence manages to use it against him. Sounds like you would like my marks on you. The synthesized voice sounds a fraction more menacing, almost like he's going to do it whether she wants it or not, and with how close he's managing to get, his hand comes up and moves toward her throat, fingers outward as if he's going to grasp her there. She'd be able to stop him, if she wants.
Ratio stays observant while keeping her gaze and posture casual. If she presents like prey, he'll react accordingly. Instead, she stays seated. She's comfortable where she's at. His presence doesn't disturb her in the slightest. She's known pain. The threats of him marking earn little more than the tugging motion at the corner of her mouth. You're projecting. She's not denying. Does that **thing** leave marks? There's an undeniable and studious curiosity about his tongue. It's nothing like anything she's worked with before - definitely not Syndicate tech. Her chin lifts upwards to expose the pale skin. It's the most vulnerable part of her, and so a bold gesture of her own confidence and misplaced trust. She absolutely trusts that he could kill her. She also trusts he knows how quickly he would be dismantled and disposed of if he did.
Criticality cares little for whether his prey presents as such. He can analyze everything far better than a human, and he can tell her heart is beating harder and faster than normal. It's only by a fraction, but it's outside of normal parameters enough that he knows there's an element of fear of what he can do. He could kill her, break her bones, even leave her missing her cybernetic lower limbs, but she's also aware of the Syndicate's response to that. Valence wouldn't be happy, either. Depends what I'm doing with it. His hand moves to her bared throat, fingers sensing her heartbeat, yet there's no pressure. He does no more than analyze the blood rushing beneath the surface. It could. Or it could leave nothing. It snakes out of his faceplate, longer than seen before, moving around her throat and letting her feel it as it drags over her skin. His fingers move to give it room to surround her neck.
Ratio seldom dislikes the advantages that he has on her; often it eliminates the guesswork. He can tell when she's feeling any extreme emotion and can detect her physical stats and the subtle changes there. Valence was unsurpassed when it came to perception. Her partner proved to be particularly accommodating to every single one of her needs. Valence could read her as easily as he could read his own coding. Could Criticality? Was he able to perceive the subtle squeeze of throat muscles when that strange, twisted tongue slathers over her skin? It's a strange sensation - not unpleasant. With Valence, she could close her eyes and relax and let his meticulous touch take control and bring her to a guaranteed orgasm every time. There was **trust.** With Crit, she had to watch his every move. She was unsure of his intentions. Her blood pumped through her veins with additional adrenaline. There was uncertainty. Will you show me what it can do? She knows better than to make any demands of him.
Criticality doesn't have quite the perception Valence does. The cracked faceplate doesn't have anything to do with it, even if that's what some people think, he just wasn't built with the same capabilities. Of course, the black synthetic had the advantage of being modified, but it didn't stop Crit from trying to outdo him in many ways. He was competitive to a fault, something which shouldn't be a part of his programming, but both of them were more than the sum of their parts. It gave everyone in the Syndicate pause for thought where both of them were concerned. In many ways, he was the yin to Valence's yang, even if their colors were opposite. I can. It's not exactly an answer, but the way the tongue constricts is. Not quite uniformly, instead it applies pressure to the sides of her throat, cutting off the blood supply; he has consummate control of the appendage. I'd ask you to tell me when you lose consciousness, but I can see for myself. He'll push her to the edge, right when her eyes roll back and she's almost losing consciousness, then he'll let her blood flow; it should be a rush, if he judges right.
Ratio was fully aware of the not-so-friendly rivalry between the two of them. Fortunately Valence didn't often resort to the same level of antagonizing the other party, but Crit has proven to take every opportunity to get one over on his fellow soldier. It was exasperating. It was a tight fit to find herself caught between the two of them - she was one of the few that could interject and keep her windpipe in place when contradicting the murder machine. Even so, it was more ideal for her act as the middle party versus having them ally themselves against her. She would rather groan in frustration than moan in protest with both of them pushing her into unconsciousness via exhaustion. Actually. Hm. It seems he's keen on pushing her past her limits all on his very own. His tongue is smooth against her skin. It has an unexpected strength that restricts her airflow. Her breath comes more shallow and she paces her breathing to keep conscious. Mmmph. Lashes flutter and threaten to drop. It's not uncomfortable. She doesn't hate it. What else you got?
Criticality The only reason she remained intact was his curiosity as to her… Inhumanity, in a squishy human body. Humans need socialization, yet here was a human who preferred hers with him and Valence. Just as soon as she was no longer a curiosity, or he could get his repairs outside the Syndicate, he'd find a way to torture her until such time as he tired of her. Until then, he needed other ways to entertain himself with her.
Heavy steps move him around behind her, yet the tongue remains wrapped around her throat, loosening slightly to keep her at the edge of haziness. Tough girl. Two additional appendages snake out from the faceplate and into the collar of her clothing, brushing over her skin and finding her breasts, seeking out her nipples so he can curl around them and tweak and stroke them. It's soft to start with, then something a little harsher once they're hard. More, little human? Does he sound smug?