Murder Drones | Plaything

Plaything

Cover Image belongs to: W0lfbones

Source:

https://murder-drones.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000000112792
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The summer heat was already bad in Australia, but of all times, why did it have to be the hottest time of the year right when he visited? The average temperature of Australia was 68 to about 100 degrees in farenheit, yet he felt like he was a stuffed turkey in an oven inside of an even bigger oven. The 'cold' air inside the car was practically useless, leaving him to spite both the celestial body and his father. Said father smacked his hand away from his expensive collar when he tried to pull at it to let out the excess heat.

"I told you not to do that."

(Y/N) rolls his eyes. "What does it matter?"

"Because we can't mess this up!" He insists with a dramatic show of hands before quickly returning them to the steering wheel once the vehicle began to swerve.

(Y/N) just groans and wipes sweat from his brow. "You mean you can't mess it up? I don't see why you had to drag me out of our country..."

"You never know, son, Mr. Elliot's daughter might fancy you during our stay."

He visibly cringes. "Isn't she still a kid...?"

"What do you take me for?!" He straightens his back to appear more sophisticated, however it fell flat when his hair fell over his eyes and obscured his vision. "I'm only going to introduce you to her, and when she is of age, you'll be wedded and we'll-"

"This isn't the medieval times!"

Poverty was something (Y/N)'s father dreaded above all else. Most of it was because of a loan from a college he had applied for him - without his consent - and ended up in debt. The money owed was more than he makes, and as a result had to spend most of his earnings paying them back. He had to start swindling people to make a decent living, which worked out quite well and was the talk of many. Despite that, they were always on the move to 'expand his sales' as he liked to tell him. Gossip about his product reached the Elliot Manor, whom sent out an invitation to show off his product and potentially strike a deal.

"Just think: all our troubles will be over!"

(Y/N) doubts this as he glances at the mattress in the back.

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The trip had taken over an hour once the two got to land, and he wanted nothing more than to get out of that stuffy car since, but secondhand embarrassment inverted that desire as both (Y/N) and his father stood drenched in sweat. Before them was a small worker drone in a butler's outfit. Nothing really striking about him, just a run-of-the-mill drone like the rest.

"Mr. (L/N) I presume...?" He asks, cringing.

"That's right! And this is my son, (Y/N) (L/N)!"

He gives a meek wave of his hand at the drone, whom only nodded.

"Right...follow me, please."

(Y/N) had never been inside a manor before, so his reaction was understandable when he took in the decorum and expensive assortments. He spots more drones going about their day cleaning the floors or carrying dishes to and from the kitchen on a silver platter.

Watching them work made a chill go up his spine. He honestly didn't like drones. It wasn't because he hated them or anything, he just found them...off. They always felt abnormally more human than machine, and that creeped him out. It felt like they were just pretending to be simple machines and were waiting for something. The thought makes him standoffish. As the three walk through a hall, he spots a drone that seemed to stand out as they adjusted a vase on a marble stand.