"I think I'm weird." you spoke to your dear friend one day, lounging around in her bedroom while she fixed the hair of another friend. She spares a glance in your direction, and hums.
"Well why do you think that?"
"My parents. They stare at me like I'm something entirely new." You sigh, sitting up and rocking forward to sit cross-legged, picking at the rug on the floor of your friend's room. "Like they think something replaced their kid."
"Mm." Your friend hums.
The girl getting her hair fixed sits up a little straighter, tilts her head back to make it easier on your friend while she spoke "You're nothing new."
"Harsh," you comment languidly. The girl stiffened, and grunts
"I don't mean it like that. I mean that you've always been like this."
You stare at the girl for a moment, tilting your head as you consider the phrasing. You don't like it, but it was better than thinking bad of those who'd raised you.
"I've always been weird."
"Is that not what humans are?"
"We're all weird." your friend chirps, tying the girl's hair up tightly before she kneeled forwards on her hands and knees on her bed, staring down at you "That is why we have such a good time together."
"You're the strange one who wants to go dumpster-diving."
"I must advise against that. You don't need to go looking for anymore–" the girl chastises before your friend brushes her off.
"Nonsense! It's not dumpster diving. We'd just be looking! People throw them out all the time, poor things. It's empathy." she pauses, drumming her fingers against the bed "isn't it?"
"Maybe you're too empathic?"
"Well maybe you're as weird as I am empathic."
"Maybe so."
–
To say you were integrated into a new society after roughly a month of living in it was an understatement. The curious stares had lessened over time as the worker drones around outpost 3 grew accustomed to your presence by seeing you walk around. It was more normalized to you, to stay in the Doorman's house. Even if you really did feel a bit like a pound puppy some days, things were stabilizing into what you would consider to be a normal routine.
Somewhat. There really was no truly stable routine with the friends you've made. Or were trying to make.
Duped into going on an impromptu field trip. That's what you'd call it, though Uzi has some extremely different choice words for the trip she was going to go on by herself.
The chill of the outside was more manageable inside of the schoolbus, what with the worker drones generating their own heat and the bus being rather insulated, if not old and a little rusted. You consider the implication, of there being a school bus on copper-9. The school in outpost 3 likely was a proper school for humans, once. A lot can change in two decades. You walked off the bus with the drones, trailing after Uzi while you stared at the sign the bus was parked near. Established in 3002. Nearly 70 years and still standing. That counts as a historical piece, you think. Maybe a few more decades and it would really be official.
"Uh, Teacher, what is this field trip?"
"Yeah, Uzi's Idea. Ask her." The teacher states from atop a cabin roof. You're..not sure how he got up there. Or the use of a lawn chair. Or..the hawaiian shirt? He was treating this like a vacation, then.
YOU ARE READING
The Living condition
Romance#1 IN MURDER DRONES THREE DAYS AFTER POSTING IT????????? HELLO?????????????????????? When you awoke, it was not peaceful. It was not simple, as you'd been told. It was not to another face, catching you up to speed. It was with the sound of shatterin...
