[ Her eyes shift from his face to his LED, noting that it’s settled back to yellow now. She feels a bit of the guilt dissipate that he might no longer be bothered by her invasive question.
However, as he speaks, telling her about his shirt, she starts to feel her own discomfort rising with the lump in her throat that she tries to swallow back. This city is the deep end, but here, she’ll know how to swim. The structure is very similar to her own world and all she’ll have to do is figure out how to navigate the system. What’s more disturbing to her, deepening the frown on her face, is the picture that he’s painting. Her jaw tightens ever so slightly as a mix of sympathy, fear, and dread builds in her. ]
I was hunted because… I’m a replicant, a bio-engineered android, and my model was no longer relevant. [ She swallows, eyes carefully trained on his face, wondering if he’d be surprised she’s just like him. She looks human, feels human in flesh and bone. And unlike him, she doesn’t have an LED indicator that differentiates her. ] My model was too emotional and unpredictable. We ran from slavery and became rebellious, so they sent blade runners after us to hunt us down and retire us, a nice way of saying we were killed.
Sound familiar? [ A little too familiar for comfort, maybe. There’s no blame in her voice, no disgust or hate, just a careful apprehension. She knows that the blade runners often didn’t have a choice either. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. ]
no subject
However, as he speaks, telling her about his shirt, she starts to feel her own discomfort rising with the lump in her throat that she tries to swallow back. This city is the deep end, but here, she’ll know how to swim. The structure is very similar to her own world and all she’ll have to do is figure out how to navigate the system. What’s more disturbing to her, deepening the frown on her face, is the picture that he’s painting. Her jaw tightens ever so slightly as a mix of sympathy, fear, and dread builds in her. ]
I was hunted because… I’m a replicant, a bio-engineered android, and my model was no longer relevant. [ She swallows, eyes carefully trained on his face, wondering if he’d be surprised she’s just like him. She looks human, feels human in flesh and bone. And unlike him, she doesn’t have an LED indicator that differentiates her. ] My model was too emotional and unpredictable. We ran from slavery and became rebellious, so they sent blade runners after us to hunt us down and retire us, a nice way of saying we were killed.
Sound familiar? [ A little too familiar for comfort, maybe. There’s no blame in her voice, no disgust or hate, just a careful apprehension. She knows that the blade runners often didn’t have a choice either. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. ]