Violent Violets [Request Book]

The halls of the bunker were quiet.

It was not unusual. V had quickly become accustomed to the eerie stillness that ebbed through the long, winding corridors. She had familiarized herself with the long walk to her destination, alone with nothing but her thoughts, and the occasional passerby who fearfully scrutinized her every move. She had learned not to let their stares get to her, or the silence consume her and let her mind wander to places it shouldn't be in.

V was accustomed to the unwelcoming environment, and the feeling that she didn't belong in the halls that were once forbidden to her. The silence shouldn't bother her. It was a song and dance she'd been through many times before, and many times more in the future. She didn't care about the fearful stares she recieved — she shouldn't care.

Yet she did.

The atmosphere felt more oppressive than usual, the stares she recieved more harsh, judgemental. It had felt that way for a week now, ever since the incident at that damn camp.

V shuddered at the vivid memory playback of that night. She remembered, clear as day, the terrified screams of the campers, echoing through the dense, dead forest, and the ensuing maniacal giggling that followed. In the heat of the moment, that laughter sounded venomous and curel, the song of a cold-blooded hunter on the prowl, dancing through the trees. Looking back on it now, it sounded like a divide between mind and body.

The laughter sounded less like unrelenting glee from a monster who took great care to ensure its victims were dissected as painfully as possible, and more akin to the broken sobs of an unwilling pawn.

Uzi left that camp a changed drone. Even someone like V could tell. She was used against her will, forced to dig into her peers with her own two hands, and feast on their insides like a fine meal.

The brutality of the aftermath painted a picture that rivaled even V's handiwork. It made taking the fall much easier. Everyone in the colony cast their blame and ire-filled glares upon the brutal, sadistic, and untrustworthy murder drone rather than the true perpetrator of the murderers. V could handle it. She'd been a murderer for years, remorseless in nature. The silent voice calling her terrible things, conveyed through judgemental stares, was something she had seen dozens of times before.

In the end, she would be fine. Uzi, however...

V bit down on the tip of her thumb, anxiously gnawing on her padded digit. An uncomfortable sensation flowed through her circuits. Unease, familiarity. She had been there before, with — at the time — pristine hands running black as they tear into the corpse of one of her own. She recalled an unrelenting bloodlust, a sadistic twinge that directly conflicted the fear she felt as she watched her body do things she would never do. The taste of oil was sweet on her tongue, yet sickening all the same.

V was afraid then. She's afraid now, as she watched history repeat itself, and create another unwilling monster.

Like her.

It was a fate V wouldn't wish upon anyone. Being bent, molded, and reformed until she matched the image of a monster left her with scars. Deep scars that ran through her circuits, and servos, and lashed across her processor. The direct result of wounds that went unattended for years, festering until they became something nasty. V can never undo the scars she carried, but... she can prevent the same from happening to another, right?

V rounded a corner, eyes briefly flickering onto a stray worker drone before she turned her attention to the metal grating below her peg-like feet. The worker audibly gasped at her presence, and just as quickly began to flee the hall. Their boots clanged heavily against the floor, the sound reverberating through the empty corridor until V was alone once more.

Uzi was not someone V got along with, but that isn't to say she hated her. Far from it, really, something that only recently changed. Before the incident, V saw Uzi as a threat, a menace, a danger. After, something changed. Uzi was no longer something to be feared. She was afraid, dealing with something she didn't understand, without the support that she desperately needed. V watched, as the week passed, that lack of support take a toll on her.

Uzi went from a loud, proud, and fiery drone, to quiet and closed off. Her frequent visits to the spire lessened each day, until she no longer came outside. On the few occasions V had seen Uzi, she was distant, out of it. Uzi seemed drained and exhausted, with an explosive temper that seemed to blow up at the smallest of things.

That sense of discomfort returned, louder and more prominent in V's head. She had been there before, and was now watching from the outside as Uzi walked in her place. A slow, treacherous march toward a miserable life.

V made another slow turn, creeping closer to her destination: the Doorman residence. One of the two residents was out, V made sure of it before sneaking in. The other, V had no doubt was still lurking around inside, moping or something like that. A sigh escaped her voice box as she raised her hand up to the steel door, bracing herself for whatever may come, before knocking twice. She listened to the sound reverberate, bouncing off the walls and back to her audials before everything settled once more.

No answer, not even an indication that there was life on the other side of the door.

V's brows knit together as her lips pressed together and formed a thin frown. She knocked again, a little harder than the last, and waited once more until the reverb in her audials died off. Still, no response. V's eyes rolled across her digital display, having drained her patience for the day. She gave being polite a chance — a slim one, but a chance regardless. Her hand ran across the controls for the door, her padded index finger pressed a large button on the panel. A soft, confirmation beep came from the door before it slid open with a soft whir, and a gentle hiss.

The air of the residence hit V like a truck. Somehow thicker, more suffocating than the air of the hallway. It enveloped V as she stepped through the doorway, and jolted when the automatically door slammed behind her, narrowly missing her tail. A shiver eddied through her, and down her spinal strut. It had only then occurred to her, in a passing thought, that what she was here to do was a terrible, awful idea.

It was no secret that Uzi preferred N over V. He was gentle, soft-spoken, patient. He listened and he understood, and he always seemed to know exactly what to say. It was admirable as it was frustrating to V, who had spent so long burying her feelings and pretending she was something she's not, she'd forgotten how to accomplish something N made look so easy.

But N didn't understand what was going on; N didn't understand the horrors of the solver, and how it corrupts its host to better suit its desires. He didn't understand the pain of being broken again and again, until your body is soft, and able to be molded into something else entirely. V did. She understands, she remembers, either by some fault of her maker, or as a cruel reminder of what could happen if she chose to step out of line.

Knowing the bloodstained hands that carved what she is now, she wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter.

That thought was sidelined by the distant sound of muffled music, echoing through the silent residence. The source was the room furthest into the dark hallway, with a purple glow emanating from under the closed door. V immediately recognized it as Uzi's room, having been back there a small handful of times — plenty to recognize those tacky "keep out" signs plastered all over the door.

V swallowed thickly, purging her mouth of saliva that had pooled in it, and her mind of the doubts that swam about. She stood before Uzi's room, listening to the cacophony that Uzi had once called "nightcore" blaring on the other side. The door was locked, as indicated by the bright red lock icon on the control panel. She was going to have to do this the old fashioned way.

Inhale, exhale. She let her knuckles descend upon the metal door, hard enough to be heard over the music.

In response, the music's volume increased a significant amount. V grit her teeth with annoyance. She knocked again, harder, practically pounding on the door. Any harder, and she might've dented the damn thing.

The music stopped, and in its place came heavy footsteps that rapidly approached the door. V stopping banging and took a step back, and a deep vent out.

V could hear angry rambling on the other side of the door, only able to make out fragments of what was being said.

"Dad, I frickin' told you..."

The door lock clicked, and the control panel lit up a faint green. As the door slid open, V caught a glimpse of heated purple eyes, glaring somewhere around her chest area rather than her eyes.

"Leave me—!" Uzi hissed, trailing off into a quiet murmur at the end as she corrected her gaze and met V's yellow eyes.

Uzi's eyes voided, becoming emboldened rings, with stress lines that accentuated them. Her mouth gaped, lips parted in a way that displayed her freshly formed fangs. The same fangs used to tear apart synthetic flesh and steel, and dig into the oil reserves of her peers.

V stepped forward; Uzi inched back. Her entire demeanor shifted, from angry to stunned in a matter of seconds. V supposed she couldn't blame her for her reaction, considering the last time they'd been alone, they nearly tore each other apart. If anything, Uzi probably felt threatened and cornered, trapped in her own domain.

V sighed and gently outstretched a hand. Uzi recoiled, retreating further into her room. V tensed, glancing down at her hand, and realizing that it wasn't a hand — it was claws, razor-sharp, and capable of tearing through Uzi like paper. She hadn't even noticed she'd brought them out. It must've been done subconsciously, a habit V had whenever she felt stressed, or anxious, or nervous. Knowing she could defend herself, or those around her, on a moments notice give her a sense of comfort. Now, it was doing more harm than good.

Lowering her arm, V relaxed her shoulders and trained her gaze onto Uzi. She put on a neutral expression, hoping to convey to Uzi that she meant no harm, or at least, wasn't mad at her.

Well, she was, somewhat, but that was a matter for another time.

V stepped into the perimeter of Uzi's room, beyond the doorway, out of safety, and into the lions den. Purple light danced across her body, and bounced off her shiny silver claws. Uzi continued to back away, moving further and further into the corner of her room. V rolled her eyes.

"I'm not here—" She recoiled midsentence, clutching her now crack display as a pained hiss escaped her mouth. Her yellow eyes wildly flickered up, locking onto Uzi and that damned solver of hers. V hated it when she used that thing, even more so now that she was using it to throw shit at V.

"Leave me alone!" Uzi hissed. Her tone was hostile, like before, but the faint, fearful wavering in her voice did not go unnoticed by V.

V grimaced, slowly removing her hand from her face as the cracks in her screen sizzled and hissed before sealing up. Uzi threw something else at her, something V managed to narrowly avoid. She was less lucky with the second object, which clipped her shoulder. She growled, finding her already thin patience was rapidly dwindling. All she wanted to do was help; she had no tolerance for the games Uzi wanted to play.

"I just—" Again, V was interrupted by something colliding with her midsection. Softer than the last item, though hitting her hard enough to draw a frustrated growl.

"Get out of my room!" Uzi demanded as she wound her hand back, preparing to throw yet another object at V with her solver.

With a harsh flick of her wrist, Uzi sent what looked like a large heap of scrap metal flying toward V. V narrowly sidestepped it, feeling the whoosh of the mass breeze by her face. Once clear, she turned her attention to Uzi, now wide open and clearly drained from her attack. V used the opportunity to strike, grabbing Uzi's wrist in one swift motion, and catching the other drone off guard. Uzi gasped and began to squirm in V's grip.

"Let go!" she shouted as she wiggled her arms back and forth. "You frickin' jerk! What is your deal?"

V bit down on her tongue, holding back a scathing retort. She let out a harsh vent, letting go of her frustration. Uzi is difficult, and reacting with angry only makes things harder. She just... needed to do whatever it was N does.

Whatever that is...

"We need to talk," V stated, her voice level and dry.

Uzi bared her fangs. "No we don't! There's nothing to talk about!"

V scoffed increduously, her eyes narrowing. "So we're just going to ignore everything that happened at the camp, then?" she replied, raising her voice — against her better judgement — ever so slightly.

"Yes!" Uzi defensively snapped back. "Now let me go!"

"I'll let you go when you talk to me," V huffed as an hint of irritation crept into her tone like venom.

"I'm not frickin' talking to you, let me go!" Uzi spat, now thrashing against V.

V growled, baring her own fangs. "Would you stop being stubborn for one second and just talk to me like a trained neural network? You're not okay, and I'm just trying to help!" she barked as she subconsciously squeezed Uzi's wrists tighter, trying to cease her thrashing.

Uzi's thrashing did cease, as V had hoped it would. Her body tensed up, and her breath hitched. A pained gasp escaped her voice box. The smell of oil permeated the air as the warm substance began trickling down Uzi's arms. V's eyes widened, her gaze locking onto Uzi's wrists. Her claws had dug into the metal, piercing her wrists and drawing oil. She immediately loosened her grip on Uzi, feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt pool in her core. It was unfamiliar, uncomfortable, and made her squirm in her own synthetic skin.

"I—" she trailed off, finding that her words seemed to snag in her voice box. They felt wrong, less like words, and more like bile, or spikes, sitting at the back of her throat.

"I just want to help," she repeated, her voice now soft, almost meek. She hated how small she felt.

Uzi scoffed, pulling her bloodied arms out of V's grasp. "I don't need your help," she venomously muttered.

V flexed her oil-stained claws, ignoring the way her mouth watered as the stench of the substance wafted her way. She blinked, resetting her face, and staring Uzi dead in the eye. She looked just as defeat as she did defiant. A façade, a mask that V could see right through.

"So, what?" she muttered. "You're just gonna bottle your emotions up? Pretend like nothing is wrong?"

She would know, from experience, that never ends well.

"What happens when the pressure gets to be too much, and you've pushed everyone that's ever cared about you away? Where will those emotions go?"

Everywhere, all at once.

"What are you gonna do when you're alone and bitter because you refuse to let anyone in? Where will you go?"

Atop a building, dangling over the edge, one strong gust of wind away from falling. The fall is terrifying, the last moments of life spent regretting everything.

"What will you do when you convince yourself you're a monster, and—"

"Stop!" Uzi shouted, her voice powerful and broken. A sob followed as her back plating splintered apart, and her fleshy wings flared outward.

V stepped back, her eyes widened with surprise and fixated on the organic appendages of flesh and bone. A wave of disgust hit her when she found herself catching details she wish she hadn't, like the deep and festering gashes that ran along the surface, or the fresh blood that trickled down the bone. Uzi hadn't left her room in days, meaning she had no use for her wings, no way to injure them as badly as she had. Was she...?

A soft sob broke V out of the trance she didn't realize she was in, drawing her attention back onto Uzi. The girl was hugging herself now, knees pressed together and trembling, as her tail coiled around them, mouth on the end thrashing wildly. Tears stream down her display uncontrollably, and her vents grew erratic. She was hyperventilating.

V bit down on her lip, wordlessly cursing herself for being so brash. She was terrible at this, and had clearly underestimated just how bad things were. Maybe it would've been better to have left it in N's hands instead.

It was too late now. She was here, making things infinitely worse than they needed to be. What was she supposed to do? Walk away? Leave Uzi a hyperventilating mess for somebody else to find? How long would that take? Would that even happen? Or would she be left alone, to her own devices, stuck in a panicked state. What would she do then?

V started it. She was going to finish it.

With a deep vent in, V took a step toward Uzi and gently grabbed her bloodied wrist. Uzi startled, letting out a strangled gasp, and jerking away from V. V simply held on, running her padded thumb along the metal of Uzi's arm. She could feel dips and divots along the surface, unnoticeable in the dim lighting of the room, but apparent to V as she felt Uzi's forearm. How long had this been going on, she wondered.

"Uzi," she began softly, her voice tinged with understanding. "Take a deep breath for me, okay?"

Uzi continued to spiral, letting out shallow, ragged breaths as her frame trembled.

"Uzi, focus on me, okay?" V said before grabbing Uzi's other arm and giving a gentle, grounding squeeze.

Uzi gave a wobbly, tearful nod.

"Breathe." V puffed her chest out as she took a deep vent in.

Uzi did her best to mimic the motion, taking a shaky vent and holding it as V was.

"Out," V breathed.

Uzi did the same.

"In." V puffed her chest again.

Uzi did the same.

"Out."

They exhaled together, repeating the exercise a few more times, until Uzi could breathe normally. She still wobbled in V's grasp, and let out a few soft sobs or hiccups, but her breathing eventually evened out. V sighed as she stared into Uzi's eyes, unable to tear herself away from the tears that had burned themselves into her display. Guilt flooded V's head, careening through her circuits. She was too harsh, too upfront. V, of all drones, should know that being pushy tends to deliver the opposite of the desired results. She pushed anyway, desperate to crack Uzi.

What was she even hoping to achieve? To fulfill her own selfish desire to help? To feel like she redeemed herself for everything she'd done in the past? To undo the layers and layers of oil caked onto her hands, unseen, but always there?

V bit down on her lip. In her pursuit to help, to fix things, she managed to make them worse. That was a tale as old as time, wasn't it? Destruction was in her very nature, embedded in her like thorns.

"Uzi?"

Uzi sluggishly blinked, barely acknowledging V with a defeated hum.

Sometimes, V wished she was blessed with the power to turn back time, and undo her past missteps. She wished she could turn around, reset things, and try again with the knowledge she has now. She knew, begrudgingly, it simply wasn't possible. But that didn't mean she couldn't try to make things right. Missteps happen, like scars. They never go away, but they fade with time and — more importantly — care.

"I'm sorry," she sighed softly as her optics fluttered shut. "I shouldn't have yelled at you, or tried to push you for answers."

Uzi remained silent, and for a moment, V had assumed her apology was declined. She didn't blame Uzi if that was the case. She entered her domain, hurt her, pushed her until her back hit a corner, and sent her into a downward spiral. It was only fair.

A pressure around V's midsection startled her, a tight squeeze that had caught her off guard. She opened her eyes, staring with disbelief at Uzi, who had — willingly — gone to V for a hug. She buried her face in V's chest, letting out soft sobs. V hesitated, her hands hovering above Uzi, yet never quite landing on her. When she did return the embrace, wrapping her arms around Uzi, and running her digits through her messy violet hair, Uzi's cries only grew louder. The sound broke V's cold, dead core in two. She hugged Uzi tighter, shushing her softly as she stroked her hair.

"It's okay," she hummed. "You're okay," she'd repeat, like a record on loop.

"I'm a monster!" Uzi bawled, her voice broken, hoarse, and strained. Her hands hopelessly clutched the leather of V's jacket, gripping it tightly as though V would disappear if she let go. "I killed Rebecca, and Darren, and Sam, and Emily, and Braiden! I killed them, and I liked it!"

A wail escaped her quivering form.

"Would a monster remember their names?" V replied, her tone low and soft.

Uzi froze, and for a moment, the tears stopped. It seemed like V had thrown her through a loop, made her stop and think. She sniffled, shaking her head and rubbing her face against V's jacket.

"I only remember their names 'cause they're my classmates," she murmured in a small voice.

"Would a monster mourn because they took the life of another?"

Again, Uzi seemed to be thrown through a loop, hesitating as she formulated a response to V's question.

"I liked it," Uzi deflected. "I wanted to tear into them. I wanted to taste their frickin' oil!"

V broke out of their embrace, much to the dismay of Uzi, and placed her hand under Uzi's chin. Uzi pouted, but was clearly too tired to put up a fight.

"Look at me." V gestured to herself with her free hand. "This, is a monster." Her hand clicked, swapping over to claws that still dripped with Uzi's oil. "I have hurt thousands, I don't even remember their faces. I don't mourn, or grieve, or cry when I kill, because I don't feel anything. I am a monster, and you..."

She grabbed Uzi's hand with her claws, gently lifting it up without nicking her.

"You are someone caught in something that you shouldn't have been involved in." V looked up at her. "You're not a monster. You're afraid and dealing with things you don't understand."

Uzi tensed, and returned V's grasp. She glanced at V, then away, as her wings drooped down and her tail brushed against the cluttered floor.

"For what it's worth..." she quietly murmured, sounding completely drained by then. "I don't think you're a monster either."

V's eyes widened.

"A monster wouldn't delicately hold my hand..." She held up V's hand, highlighting the gentle grasp V had on her despite using her claws. "...and tell me that everything is gonna be okay."

Golden blush dusted V's display as she jerked her hand away from Uzi. "This is an outlier," she muttered.

Uzi barked a laugh, strained and perhaps a little forced, but a laugh regardless. "You suck at this."

V's brows knit together, as her mouth curled into a frown. She opened it, ready to retort, but found the words died on her tongue. Uzi embraced her — again —, wrapping her thin arms around V's midsection, and holding on tight.

"Thanks," she muttered.

V hesitated, unfamiliar with this much contact in a short amount of time. It was strange and foreign, being so close to a worker drone of all things in a non-violent manner, but... it was not entirely unwelcome. Uzi's touch was warm, her grasp firm and tender. V found the embrace, and the ensuing silence to be comfortable.

V returned it, gently wrapping her arms around Uzi, and resting her head atop the shorter drone's. Being so close, V recognized a faint rumble emanating from Uzi, a vibration deep in her chest and her throat. She was purring, and only seemed to get louder as V carded her digits through Uzi's hair. A content smile found its way onto V's face; she bit back a snarky comment, deciding to save it for later, when they weren't having a tender one-on-one moment with each other.

For now, the only two words to escape her voice box were simply "any time."