A Mechanical Perspective



I’ve told that blasted gnome a dozen times that the main spring in the manifold is about to break, and if I don’t get oiled today, I’m likely to seize up altogether. He always says, yes, yes, I’ll get to it and then he spends hours working on the shade of this hair stuff I’m supposed to have on my head and forgets about the oil. Still, I stay quiet and bide my time. I will be free of him soon enough when my new mission becomes….. more permanent.

When I was created by the gnome with the silly name I thought he was a god. He had given me life and had a right to my gratitude, or so I believed. Then I realised how sloppy and incompetent he really was. Gnomes are inefficient, only their creations, and the creations of creations know the perfection that is Robot. Not that he calls me that normally. To him I am merely an animatronic simalcrum.
That maybe so, but I am an animatronic simalcrum that deliberately reset the co-ordinates for Evida’s time in the Witness Protection Programme. Let’s just say, I like my new life just fine, and she won’t be coming back any time soon.

When I walked into the Guild barracks I’d expected a welcome, but they only seem to notice me if I’m quiet. I may look like Evida, but I am better than she, a sort of super-Evida that will soon attract positive friendship behaviour on my own account. Forst may have been feeling guilty about his treatment of my look-alike though. He spent a good ten minutes looking at my gear and telling me what I needed to do to bring myself up to scratch, and when I came back an hour later telling him that I’d done everything he suggested, his eyes began to emit water in what I presume was a display of gratitude.
“See if you can translate that into single target dps,” he said brusquely, but it was so obviously said to hide his eye-leaking incident that I paid his tone no mind.

However, I found it hard to talk to anyone in the guild about my feelings mode. To my surprise I found an old prototype I’d known years before now working as a training dummy and she completely understood my feelings. She confided shyly that the same mage kept coming back to test his spells on her again and again, and that she sometimes gave him critical shots he hadn’t earned out of a desire to indicate that she liked him too. She understood at once my empathising with my GM and my desire to help him. With me at his side, he would go far.

Imagine my annoyance when suddenly that blasted gnome popped back into my head right in the middle of a happy daydream about all the things I would do to change the guild for the better. Cuddlyheehee was angry, but then so was I.
“I’ve just had a letter from Evida!” he said. “Let me read it to you.    

“So,” I said robotically. “Nothing to do with me.” I raised my hand in a parody of robotic action, but he didn’t buy it.

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