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My crappy sign-up post. Wee.
Mon Apr 20, 2009 1:55pm (XFF:

"Make a fist," Morphyne ordered, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. That was just his style--like the effects his namesake had on living organisms, Morphyne's ability to feel was substantially deadened. Axel--and all the Reploids who came to him for repairs--did not care. When in diagnostic mode, higher personality functions such as emotion and the ability to feel pain were suppressed, so Morphyne's impersonal attitude was quite appropriate.

Axel's hand closed into a fist obediently, and remained there while Morphyne checked the power flow to each of the subdermal sensors. After the scans were complete, the Reploid doctor stepped back and nodded to himself.

"Open your hand," he ordered, and as Axel complied, Morphyne slipped the ferro-fibrous musculature glove over the exposed metal endoskeleton. He fitted the severed end up with the musculature that dangled loosely from Axel's forearm from where Morphyne's plasma cutter had sliced through it hours ago. Working quickly, Morphyne rubbed the tip of a handheld nano welder over the seam, sealing the individual microscopic fibers sealing together.

Still working with professional, emotionless precision, Morphyne returned the tool to the nearby surgical tray and retrieved Axel's biosynthetic outer skin from the vat of nutrient solution. Morphyne methodically rinsed the residual solution off the outer and inner sides of the glovelike piece of flesh, then slid it over the top of Axel's exposed muscles. Retrieving the nano welder from the tray and slightly adjusting a knob, he sealed the seam in the flesh as he had with the musculature layer moments earlier.

Stepping back from the table, Morphyne produced a small piece of granite from a nearby shelf and tossed it to Axel.

"Catch, with your left hand," Morphyne instructed. Axel's recently repaired hand snapped up and plucked the baseball-sized stone from the air.

"Crush it," Morphyone instructed one last time. Axel's fingers closed over the stone, pulverizing it into gravel which quickly littered the floor. Seeing the final test complete, Morphyne reached behind Axel's head and yanked the access cable out of the slot. The computer monitors over Axel's surgical bed went black immediately.

"Ugh," the Russian grunted, blinking his eyes with a bit of disorientation as he exited diagnostic mode. "Just because I'm plug-and-play compatible doesn't mean I like it,"

"Your hands are finished, so get out of here," Morphyne said, utterly ignoring Axel's comment and getting to work prepping the room for his next patient. Axel smirked, expecting nothing less from the cold surgeon. Giving what he recieved, Axel left without so much as a goodbye or a thank-you.

En route back to his office, Axel flexed his fingers experimentally. Morphyne was as good as they came--his hands were as good as new, and it was as if they were never even damaged. Morphyne even successfully restored a few cosmetic nicks on his fingers. Though the surgeon was impersonal, Axel had to admit his work was beyond perfect.

"We have just received the official sign in sheet for the Iron Hand Tournament in Delta City. If you are interested, please sign up. That is all," the PA speaker mounted in the intersecting corridor ahead blared without warning. The voice was distinctly recognizable as belonging to Giles, the FR's resident bean counter.

Axel smirked to himself as he walked the corridors, recalling a conversation he'd had with Giles earlier that month. We're so short on funds lately I've even started checking my Spam folder for possible leads, Giles had said. Apparently he'd held true to his word. The Iron Hand advertisement had a tendency of winding up on spam lists as a means of attracting cannon fodder for more experienced warriors to warm up on.

Axel paused outside his office door, one hand on the lever. To sign up, or hunt for more lucrative contracts? Fuck it, Axel decided, releasing his door lever and continuing down the hallway to the common room, where the sign-up sheet was most likely posted.

NRP: Boobies. Gargoyles. Leatherman. Compact Disk.

That is all, thank you.

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    • My crappy sign-up post. Wee. — Axel, Mon Apr 20 1:55pm
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