Hex codes:
doc: dc143c
jen: 4169e1
anzu: 2e8b57
gabby; c71585

	It was a crisp autumn afternoon just outside a domed city like any other, seas lapping at the coastlines, lazily drifting over the bronze sands. The transport station up to The Ring sat in its typical mood, workers of all sorts prepping the usual payloads to be sent up and used for any number purposes on the geosynchronous orbital ring world. An unassuming wolf girl sat on a bench in the commuter’s section alone, arms crossed and one leg likewise kicked up over the other. She leaned back, absentmindedly staring at the ceiling of the utilitarian waiting room that looked like it had had about as much attention paid to it in the last hundred years as the canine sitting in it was paying it now.

System.Doc: Boooooored…… xd

System.Jen: Wasn’t this your idea in the first place?

System.Doc: Yeah, but you know that having to wait like this is such a draaaaaggggg…

System.Jen: Well then think about *something* so you aren’t just blasting the word “bored” into the headspace, you dip. >;(

	If anyone was around to pay close attention to the eyes of the one sitting on the bench they might’ve noticed a faint flicker occasionally playing across her eyes. And if they were paying REALLY close attention and could somehow read backwards that fast, they would’ve noticed that that faint flicker was actually words, the internal monologue of whoever this was sitting here playing across her eyes at lightspeed, somehow.

	Beyond that however, the wolf girl would’ve seemed to anyone who cast a glance her way to be extraordinarily normal. A physiology that suggested the post-splicer standard of eating well and playing well, with a modest bust and thighs that spoke to their femme presentation. Her coat was a sleek steel grey and her hair rested in a slightly messy bob. A baggy set of pants and shirt capped off their appearance, the somehow distinctly nondistinct wardrobe betraying no preference of style, an uncommon sight in the future that allowed anyone to wear anything at their leisure.

	Leaning back, arms spread back and over the top of the bench’s backrest, and head hanging back as far as her neck would let it, they sat in repose. Alone among the din of transport logistics occurring in their background. 

System.Anzu: Think we’ll fit in up there? :?

System.Jen: I guarantee it, it’s a space colony full of a bunch of furries who wanted to go even further beyond the already absolutely insane feats achieved down here, and fucked off to space to be even weirder. We’re gonna fit in like a well tailored suit, anzu. ;y

System.Anzu: You’re right, tbh. Idk what I’m even worried about. x)

System.Doc: I’m a bit worried that our specific situation might cause some hassle getting all registered and everything, to be honest. ;t

System.Jen: It’ll be fiiiiiiiiine. I’m sure they’ve got way more exciting kinds of psychiatric nonsense compared to us. We’re stable and essentially a bunch of sisters. Trust.

System.Gabby: Don’t you worry your head a minute Doc, me and Jen will get this done without a hitch and we can get to settling in without a care in the world~.

System.Doc: I guesssssssss. Lol. I’m gonna sink down a bit then, nothin interesting on my side of the sandbox rn, so might as well nap. =.=

System.Jen: Nap sounds good right now tbh, I’ll join you.

System.Anzu: Same.

System.Gabby: Saaame.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

	The wolf sat for a purposefully uncounted amount of time, checking none of the methods available to them to count the seconds, hoping it would make the time pass without notice. There was nothing but time these days, post-splicer society operating at the kind of efficient hum you get from having the benefits of post-scarcity. Things hardly ever went wrong so people merely set themselves to perform their tasks at whatever pace seemed most comfortable to them.

	This efficiency however, did not make time move faster than the eternal standard of one second per second. The Grav-Lift would be ready in precisely the amount of time it always was, and that left the wolf woman nothing to do but recline in wait. 

	A soft “ding-dong” rang through the station and a voice came over the intercom network, a prerecorded voice in a soft cadence announcing, “the Grav-Lift to Blackprint station is now ready for boarding, all passengers please proceed to the boarding areas. I repeat, the Grav-Lift to Blackprint station is now ready for boarding, all passengers please proceed to the boarding areas.”

	The wolf opened her eyes, blinked away the nap, and let a deep sigh pass her lips, eyes closed in thought.

System.Jen: I’m up front for now, looks like. =3=

	Rising from the bench she stretched and twisted this way and that, rustling her limbs away from the stillness of rest. She sauntered towards the boarding area, a simple station consisting of a standing desk and a few shorter benches arranged in rows for anyone who wanted to be sure they didn’t miss departure. It was a somewhat less impressive sight compared to the seating that overlooked the loading crews, in her opinion, especially since it wasn’t a very busy travel time for the Ring. Besides, the white noise from the loading crews preparing everything that needed to go up for the Ring’s continual maintenance made for excellent white noise to nap to.

	The boarding attendant gave a polite wave and nod as the wolf approached the gate.

“Name and ticket, please.”

“Here you are, name of Jennifer” the wolf replied, holding up her PET to present the ticket’s information on the screen. 

“One-way, huh? Long vacation or moving on up there?”

“Moving, could use the change of scenery, y’know?”

“I do, traveling is such a nice way to refresh your body and mind, in my opinion.” the boarding attendant, a svelte robin fellow, chatted back cheerfully. “In fact I was thinking of heading up to Blackprint for the next Run Spring, the last one was a hoot with the Stockweight Era theming. I wonder what they’re gonna cook up for the upcoming one.”

“what’s the Run Spring?”

“You mean you’re going up to Blackprint and you haven’t heard of the Run Spring? That’s almost shocking!! It’s a months long activity that Blackprint holds every few years. Since the population all fits neatly on the central strut, they use the prefabricated stuff down on the interior of the Ring segment they’re assigned to host a giant living roleplaying session. They announce the theme in advance and everyone in Blackprint and quite a few people who visit exclusively for the Run Spring prepare their parts in the story, villains, heroes, communities, everything you can think of! It’s a blast, if you’re moving up there you should definitely take part at least once.” 

	The robin fellow was beginning to get more and more excited about this festival, eager to sell the wolf woman on taking part. To his credit, at least, it *was* working, the idea of taking part in what was essentially a giant tabletop gaming LARP did sound pretty fun. Maybe she wouldn’t take part in the one coming up just so she could get a chance to settle in to her home, but definitely one day. The robin however had shifted from excitable to rattling off about past experiences, and she had begun to get a bit bothered that he didn’t seem to be ready to let her board without regaling her about every experience of his relating to the festival. A polite cough and a jerk off her thumb towards the boarding gate was thankfully enough to return the robin to his senses, however.

“Oh, shit, so sorry about that, heh. I just get excited about it, is all… The Run Spring just happens to be one of my favorite events, gives me a reason to go up to the Ring and cut loose for a while. Well, you’re all set to board, have a good one!” he blurted sheepishly, trying to save a bit of face after his outburst.

“Hey no worries about it, mate. At the least, you’ve definitely sold me on giving it a go sometime. Catch ya later!” and with a peace sign shot the robin’s way, she headed on through the boarding gate.

	The transport up to the Ring essentially consisted of a fairly large can-shaped capsule that was lifted via strong field technology up to a synced docking station that sat straddled between two ring segments. Using the enormous energy stores of the ring, the capsule would be raised up through a tractor beam and docked into place on the ring, where all its passengers, personnel, and cargo could be disbursed towards their final destinations via the central rail line that circled the ring’s inner axis.

	To the woman who had never left her undercity and had only dreamt of space travel in idle wonder, this was perhaps one of the coolest things they’d ever seen. Rising up through the air, getting a birds eye view of the Earth before penetrating the cloud cover and beginning the see the curvature of the Earth trailing off away from them to meet the horizon.

System.Doc: WE’RE GOING TO FUCKING SPACE HOLY SHIT!

System.Jen: Goddamn we’re going to fucking space, fuck…

System.Gabby: God it’s beautiful, so blue……. 0A0

	The triplet of thoughts playing across the inside of her eyes took the gravity of the situation in in its fullness. They really were going to fucking space, goddamn. And with the rousing of the fourth they sat and stared in wonder out of their window seat.

System.Anzu: holy shit… fuckin space… goddamn… 

	The sat there and allowed themselves to be awed, taking an absentminded photo or two with their PET, and simply took it in. Space. Space. SPACE. Goddamn Motherfucking Space. The word kept echoing back at them in their head as the lift rose more and more, the crisp azure skies of the Earth slowly shifting hue to the dark blue tones of the upper atmosphere, clouds growing wispier, and the stars beginning to dot the sky’s infinite canvas. Eventually, however, an unexpected sight drew their attention back to their surroundings. Chains? Curiously, sets of enormous chains descended from on high to surround the Grav-Lift’s capsule, yet they didn’t seem to be positioned to hook onto anything.

	The woman looked around, her curiosity plain on her face, enough so to prompt a passenger some seats away to speak up and assuage her confusion.

“First time riding up the lift? The chains were put in at first so they could winch these things up the rest of the way, but with the field technology working so well they’re pretty much just for show now, hemming in the capsule on its last leg up to the station.” The rodent man lectured as he rose from his seat and trotted over to his impromptu student

“Damn…” replied the wolf, in awe at the spectacle for different reasons compared to the stunning beauty of the Earth. “We’re on the last leg you said?”

“Yeah, though there’s still some time, we’re not going nearly as fast as pre-splice rockets had to go to get up here. Probably about 45 minutes or so? Anyway, I’ve said my piece so I’ll leave you to get some good pictures, eh?” and with a wink the rodent fellow walked back to his seat, scrolling the news on his own PET while the wolf woman felt conspicuous holding her own. 

System.Jen: Man, this is something else. They’ve got a space elevator so down pat that it’s pedestrian to hitch a ride to space. Fuck me, the future really is here and we’re living in it. O-O

System.Doc: I mean, we were living in the future before down in Capacita, it’s not like we’ve spent a few hundred years down there for nothing >.>

System.Jen: you’re right, but still. SPACE. Honest to god, no fucking foolin it, 100% in space SPACE. 

System.Anzu: I know! It’s still insane to think about, huh?

	Time ticked on as the wolf woman sat in wonder, the possibilities of her future still dwarfed by the immensity of going to space in the first place. A new life, joining the post-splicers up among the stars. It was more than a dream come true, it almost felt like any minute the voice would come over the speakers and tell her that she’d been punk’d. The feeling lingered enough even, that when the ‘ping-pong’ noise of an upcoming announcement chimed through the cabin, she recoiled in a start, fear creeping on the edges of her mind.

“Approaching docking station within 5 minutes, please attend to your personal belongings in preparation for departure, and have a wonderful day. Nearest ring segment: Blackprint. Repeat: approaching docking station within 5 minutes, please attend to your personal belongings in preparation for departure, and have a wonderful day.”

	And that was it. No rugpull, no onlookers turning toward her to laugh at how dumb she must’ve been to believe she was actually going to space. Just a reminder to prep for disembarking like every other single mode of public transport ever devised. This was real. The only thing separating her from her new life among the stars was 5 minutes of landing procedures and a walk off the capsule.

	She was home.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

	Or rather, while she had finally arrived in Blackprint, there was still the matter of registering herself with the administration. Citizenship wasn’t hard to get anywhere in the world anymore, but the proper channels still had to be traveled all the same. She picked up some info on where Blackprint’s town hall was and made her way to the disembarkment. The station attendant on duty even gave her a link to a fun little video explaining the history of the city, something to watch on the trans ride over to her stop at town hall.

	And while the Grav-Lift was a truly awe inspiring feat of engineering, it was when the woman stepped out of the Grav-Lift station and could finally take in the sights that her mind was truly obliterated by the wonders of Postsplicer society. What greeted them was a vista stretching off toward the other end of Blackprint’s segment of the ring, buildings all clad in pitch black with graffiti of all types adorning their surfaces. An infinite number of canvases all available for use, some bold and stylized screaming out from the surface to demand attention, some beautifully delicate renderings of landscapes and moments of serenity that stilled the mind as it took them in. Buildings rose up from ground in jagged manners, what felt like a metropolis condensed and squeezed upwards in a huddle like mountains rising from the meeting of tectonic plates, and still more could be seen clinging to the multiple struts that connected the central axis of the segment with the blank expanse of pristine prefabricated infrastructure that made up the sky. 

	The wolf girl stood at the gate exit for a while, simply gazing at the brand new world that lay before her, dumbstruck. Thousands of thoughts scrambled for attention over what to do first before they regathered themselves. 

“Right, we should, probably get to Town Hall and register…”

	They took the time to bring the video up on their PET and make sure it was playing back properly, but with the user friendliness of postsplicer technology it took no more than a couple seconds before they began the earnest walk towards the center of the sprawling city.

“Blackprint was established 76 years ago by a small commune of engineers aiming to live among the stars, to offer a place where anyone could make their mark cast against the backdrop of the pitch black canvas of space. In the time since it has become a place for creatives of all disciplines to share their passions with other like-minded peoples.” 

	The panther woman spoke with an excitement that was somewhat at odds with the boilerplate nature of the speech, though her numerous tattoos and piercings along with her stylish wardrobe spoke to the truth of this place being a haven for those who valued creativity above all else if she were the choice for Blackprint’s official introductory video.

“With the Ring providing such a vast amount of space to work with between the primary axis and the prefabricated infrastructure along the inner wall, the founding engineers discussed among themselves how best to utilize it. If engineers love one thing, it’s to solve a problem completely and thoroughly from the start. In the end, what they came up with in time would serve as the seed for the heart of Blackprint. Their logic of ‘Build our tight knit community in the smallest space possible to keep the sense of belonging high, and allow the rest to be a free use test bed for any idea one could have’ still serves as the guide for our own personal slice of paradise among the stars to this day.”

	The speech went on discussing more minutiae of the town’s history but they were starting to tune out the noise in favor of marveling the spectacle of the town in the present. Storefronts jumped out at them, promising culinary wonders, fashions, and tech that weren’t beyond imagination, but fusions of existing ideas in ways they hadn’t ever considered. For every burger place and accessory shop there must’ve been at least two or three more that had carved out there own daring idea and put it on display; who even thinks of having a restaurant that seemingly blended Mediterranean and Sushi?

	Back alleys invited them to explore clubs and bars, and the storefronts rose up to become housing and studios for the residents. It was nearly like a dream city plunked right from their memory and made real. They paced onwards and gawked and took in the sights and were dazzled by every bit of their new reality, but before long they had finally reached Blackprint Town Hall. It stood almost exactly half way along the three mile stretch Blackprint had claim to, an exeedingly boring and practical choice in an environment that craved the exceptional 

	And of the building itself, well, it was frankly a completely predictable sight. A squat structure in the manner of pretty much every government ever built in the history of humanity, and while it sported the same black facade of the rest of the town, it hosted picturesque murals of the sort that celebrated community, togetherness, and common history that brought to mind the kinds of things you would’ve seen in a PSA from the 90s. This isn’t to say that it wasn’t a beautiful sight, but merely that it exuded such a Standard Issue Local Government aura that it yoinked the wolf girl right out of her wonderment and back into the now.

System.Jen: Wow, town halls really are the same everywhere, aren’t they.

System.Gabby: A mural celebrating the creation of the space station feels quaint almost, doesn’t it?

System.Jen: All it’s missing is something about racial harmony. Guess that kinda thing really is a thing of the past here though, isn’t it? Let’s get registered already, I wanna get something to eat after this.

System.Anzu: What were you thinking?

System.Jen: I…… don’t know actually. Maybe you should ask for recommendations >3>

	Musings aside, they strode up the small flight of stairs and entered the lobby. And if the exterior was predictable, the interior probably came right out of the blueprints from the 90s wholecloth. An easy on the eyes beige paintjob on the walls, a broad central desk of hardwood, a few wall monitors advertising various local events, and potted foliage. A testament to the adage “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” that nearly knocked the wind right out of the wolf woman; and were it not for the chipper rabbit working the desk talking with a stern looking tanuki woman they might’ve seriously thought they were getting punked.

System.Jen: ITS THE FUTURE AND THIS IS WHAT YOUR TOWN HALL LOOKS LIKE? ARE YOU FOR REAAAAAAAAAL????????????

	The wolf stood dumbfounded, unsure of what to say to break the spell holding them in place. What feels like a minute passes before the tanuki spies her out of the corner of her eyes, pulling herself away from the rabbit to greet her.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Hailey, one of the two mayors here in Blackprint, how can I help you?” she said, offering her hand for a handshake in one smooth practiced motion. 

	She was, to put it bluntly, gorgeous. A body sporting killer curves accentuated by the tightly fit office attire she wore, with a tantalizing hint of a golden lace bra peeking up from her cleavage, and a pair of similarly golden high heels. The wolf woman could hardly figure where to look first before tearing her gaze away from Hailey’s figure to at least be polite and greet her with eye contact

“Uhm, we’re, I mean, I’m new in town and was hoping to get my citizenship in order. I, uh, was wondering, two mayors, you said?” stammered the wolf, trying her best to make conversation and NOT stare at the tanuki woman’s hourglass shape. She returned the handshake while she was at it, hoping to not appear as awkward as she felt.

System.Doc: Oh god she’s way too hot to be working administration. @_@

System.Anzu: I’m not sure we’re going to make it here, brain fried from too many hot furries.

Hailey completed the handshake maneuver and turned towards the nearest hall, addressing the wolf woman all the while with her stoic affect, “Very good, if you’d follow me then, I can get your naturalization and housing all set up right away. And yes, my sister and I are the current seven term incumbents of the mayorship of Blackprint.” She walked with what *must* have been an intentional sway, her generous rear tracing curves in the air as her tail swished back and forth. The wolf woman was starting to reach her breaking point.

System.Doc: AND SHE HAS A SISTER. Please, whatever god is up there, do not let us fumble this. @A@

System.Gabby: oh my god and the way her heels make her ass look even better and her outfit is so 	perfectly trimmed and is she hitting on us I can’t take this fuck fuck fuckkkkkk.

	She followed the bombshell tanuki woman through the halls, catching glimpses of the turning gears of society and even a few eyefuls of equally sexy men and women as the pair eventually arrived at the mayor’s office. It too bore the aura of Standard Issue Government, but wore it like a symbol of pride, the hardwood desk in front of a nearly wall sized bookshelf bearing various tomes and folders, elegantly trimmed woodwork adoring the walls while the floor was draped in a stately wine red carpet. This wasn’t just a mayor’s office, it was a Mayors Office, dual capitals and perhaps even a trademark if it felt appropriate.

	Hailey offered her a seat in front of the desk as she sat in her own, a very comfortable looking office chair with a bit of recline. “Apologies that my sister is out at the moment, she’s taking the day to attend to some personal affairs. Now, if I may begin at the beginning, your personal information if you please? Species, automa, I presume?”

	Wait, this wasn’t supposed to be how it went. How did she already know? She was just supposed to slip into the background here, no one was supposed to know what she really was! What was she going to do to us, are we going to be sent back to the undercity? We need to leave now. We need to leave. We need to leave. We need to leave. We need to leave. 

	The wolf woman began to jolt out of the office seat, panic evident in her eyes, ready to bolt down the hallway and never look back before she was interrupted by Hailey, “Apologies if that alarmed you, please remain seated, you’re not in any trouble or danger.”

	Not in any danger? Really? Was she sure? Thoughts tripped over themselves as the wolf caught herself in the act of rising halfway, split between flight and freeze responses crashing into each other and unable to act on either. The soothing tone of the tanuki woman’s voice didn’t seem like it was hiding a lie, and as the fear slowly drained out of her she slumped back into her seat, dumbstruck once again.

“I could tell from the minute lines of text tracing across your eyes, we’ve gotten our fair share of automa expatriates from the undercities ever since the incident in Locksmouth a few months ago. Automa are free to move among us post-splicers freely now. Your behavior tells me that you haven’t heard of this?”

	The wolf woman turned the words over in her mind. She was never one for keeping up on the news in all honestly and she had even discretely unplugged herself from the neuro net before leaving Capacita to get a fresh start. Well, the cat was already out of the bag, according to Hailey, so there was no point in maintaining this charade any longer.

	“Uhm… Yes, we’re an automa” and alongside her admission, the woman’s wolf holographic facade dropped, revealing a body of off-white, articulated with joints like that of a doll, and a head with a screen that displayed her doodle like face. White eyes, mouth, and freckles on a smooth black face screen, and a purple and blue draping head of synthetic hair. “And no, we haven’t heard about the incident, what happened?”

	“Hmm, where to start…” Hailey sat at her desk, leaning back in thought, trying to compose from the facts of the past a series of statements that would explain the present. “I suppose I must start at that the beginning if any off this is to make sense. First of all, aliens are real.” she turned her head towards the automa woman, trying to feel out her response to this first heavy piece of information. The automa in turn merely gawked back, another piece of over-stimulation fighting for attention leaving her just as stunned as before.

“Aliens? Like, little green guys?” she spoke back flatly. It seemed far fetched but she was in fact sitting in a mayor’s office to a town that was one segment of a world spanning space station slash colony, a sentient machine conversing with an anthropomorphic raccoon woman. Believability hardly seemed to factor into anything at this point.

“More aptly little grey guys, in fact. They call themselves inklings, beings that live in a metaphorical sense rather than a biological one. The dome city Locksmouth was the ground zero for both a short lived invasion and counter invasion effort. The remaining peaceful faction has since stuck around and slowly been dispersing outwards, integrating into society as best they can. They require a biological host to symbiotically partner with, which means the alien fauna they invaded with have also been left here on Earth, though those are being kept in captivity for research purposes.”

“Following that first incident, a second occurred. A rogue faction of automa from Fluxton, located underneath Locksmouth, aimed to oust the inkling population. In the process they also revived the one known as Grendel, who accelerated the conflict to potentially apocalyptic proportions. Thankfully the incident was resolved by the assistance of the remainder population of Fluxton working alongside the Inkling hero and their teenage host who resolved the most of the invasion. Since then automa have been emerging and distributing themselves among the global populace. The Ring in particular has been a welcoming home to them, already filled with futurist types who did not have most of the world’s aversion to thinking machines.”

“That’s about the jist of it, anyways” Hailey concluded, closing the file she had brought up to give the abbreviated summary of the events. “If you would like to read more about it there’s interviews and first hand accounts that can give more insight. However, for our purposes that’s really the brunt of it. As such you are welcome to settle here in Blackprint free of any persecution you might have expected. I can also offer you information on public services and community members who support the automa community here, if you would like. Before that however, there is the matter of your citizenship. You registered as Jennifer but I suspected that’s not your true name. If you would be so kind as to redeclare yourself I can amend your file here and now and you can be on your way.”

	The tanuki woman looked up from her files and computer to the automa, still stunlocked by the insanity of the events explained to her. *Grendel?!* ***THAT Grendel????*** And inklings and a whole alien invasion and everything solved by a TEENAGE KID? Truth is stranger than fiction but this all seemed insane. Who was writing this stuff? Even for someone who LIVED through the era of Nhilus and his schemes that was all merely extensions of known science. And someone REACTIVATED Grendel? Who the fuck was so cataclysmically stupid to do that? And HOW?

	The automa pondered it all before shoving it to the bottom of their mental stack and labeled it “To Research Later.” For now they had the citizenship and possibly even reconnecting to the neuro net to take care of. *Hopefully* they could reconnect anyway, they’d never heard of anyone doing so but fuck it they’d just heard a whole ton of firsts just sitting in this office, surely someone could help up here.

	A discreet cough brought her back to the present, the tanuki woman looking expectantly at the automa as her eyes came back into focus, fingers primed and at attention at her keyboard. “Uh, well we go by Gearbox usually, but if you want to know our whole system we can tell you, but, wait I mean, I go by Gearbox, so you see…”

System.Anzu: Woops…

System.Gabby: Well cat’s out of the bag now, might as well tell her. V-V

	The tanuki woman merely continued modifying the forms on her monitor, gaze fixed yet. “If you feel the need to explain, you may. Otherwise I can merely go with Gearbox and continue onward adjusting your files.”

	Barely a second passed in the eyes of the tanuki but she could make out from the corner of her eyes the telltale minuscule blur across the automa’s eyes that so often signified some sort of internal dialogue. Drawing herself up a bit having up her mind, the automa made a token action to clear her throat before resuming, “Um, yes, we, and we do go by we, are Gearbox, a system of four personalities that share this frame. Gearbox is what we refer to ourselves as when none of us are actively taking the lead. And thats… about it really. Uh, thanks for letting us explain… And thank you for understanding” More than a little embarrassed at the outburst and trying to not look like a complete dork, they dialed up the politeness hoping to save just a little bit of face in the eyes of Hailey; feet flat on the floor, back up straight, active attempts to maintain eye contact, the works. 

	Hailey reciprocated, though whether it was intentional or merely the natural grace of a practiced public official Gearbox couldn’t tell, “Of course, though you’re actually the first of our citizens to actually explain such things to me. I wouldn’t mind learning more about it if you could spare me the time after this, in fact.” The tanuki coupled her civility power play with a slight smile, dealing a critical strike direct to Gearbox’s sensibilities.

System.Anzu: *oh my god she’s so nice and pretty and she smells so good please help I can’t take 	iiiiiiiiittttt.*

System.Doc: seems like she’s *someone’s* type, huh? ;y

System.Anzu: m-maybe… >A<

	The nervous stutter returned in full force, attempts at remaining unflustered kneecapped by Hailey’s charms, scrambling for poise like a bird kicked out of the nest for the first time. “Y-Yeah we’d be down for that! It might have to be, uh, after we get, uh, settled in a bit, y’know, h-heheh….” How an artificial woman managed the pubescent squack of a high schooler asking out their crush might be one for the philosophers, yet that’s what happened. Luckily, Hailey seemed to find the act endearing and so later on when Gearbox wound down they would be glad to tally the friend count up to 1. However, in the moment, it was like getting pantsed and wet willie’d simultaneously; a feeling of embarrassment that seemed to last into infinity.

	Thankfully Hailey made the move to disarm the situation before the automa women sitting before her self destructed in a cataclysmic fashion, “I’ll be sure to wait patiently then.” another gentle smile perching upon her features, “Onwards with your registration then. Name slash Designation, which you’ve said is Gearbox. Gender?”
	The question provoked an autonomic reflex in the woman, centuries old call and response discussions having worn this particular groove into their memory, answering with steady and detached affect like this routine had been practiced billions of times, “Is nonbinary okay?”

	The tanuki woman in turn did not hesitate, merely noting down the dictated statement, “Of course, classification automa as well presumably?” 

	Gearbox snapped out of the rote sequence at the question. Wasn’t this supposed to go differently? It must be fine for them to be nonbinary at this point, right? “It’s alright? I mean, automa yeah, but, it’s fine?”

“Is what fine?”

“You know, the nonbinary thing”

“Gearbox I assure you that however you choose to identify there will be no pushback, I guarantee it. And if for some reason there *is*, please let us know and we here will take care of it. We take the freedom of expression of our citizenry here in Blackprint with great seriousness. Now, next question, is there any sort of subtype you’d like to declare? Our automa citizens like to use this field as another means of self expression, you’re free to identify as whatever suits you best.”

	The automa turned the statements over in their mind for an instant

System.Anzu: What DO we wanna call ourselves anyway? ;?

System.Doc: How clever do you wanna be?

System.Jen: It should be cool, we’re a cool trans system aren’t we? ;3

System.Anzu: WAIT, I’VE GOT IT!

	“Transmission system.”

	Hailey looked away from her monitor to think for a moment, before a smirk settled on her features, “I think I get it? That is a clever choice to be sure. Very well, subtype Transmission System it is. Let’s see, status resident, correct?” A curt nod from Gearbox, no need to explain this one. “If you could stand up for a moment, while I record your height and weight?” The automa rose on command, unsure how the tanuki woman would do so given there was no medical diagnostic equipment in the room. A series of commands to the office woman’s terminal solved the mystery, a small gadget descending from the ceiling to measure height and a soft pinging sound from under the floor surreptitiously registering weight. “172cm and 72kg, must be your lucky number, eyes white”

	“Next up, some automa specific information, if you don’t mind, your most recent full MIR date?”

	“Our what?”

	“Ah I believe the colloquial term is your last rake?”

	“Oh, uhhh, 28 years ago on our birthday so…. 2513-07-19

	“Latest SMI check? That would be your last diagnostic.”

	“Lemme think…… 2538-09-01”

	“Genocide Engine operation status?”

	“Oh god, inactive, don’t remind us”

	“Asimov Triggers?

	“not installed”

	“Frame class and registration date”

	“Shifting, and 2523-08-21”

	“any PETNet or NeuroNet infractions?”

	“none”

	“general assembly registration and status?”

	“Uh… don’t know what that is”

	“I’ll help you get registered then. That’s all I need from you then, all that remains is getting your PET registered w/ our system and getting your housing situated settled. We’re glad to have you here in Blackprint, Gearbox, welcome to our humble city.”

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	The process whisked by with an unbelievable smoothness unthinkable for a governmental transaction. In just a scant hour they were registered with both the city’s general assembly and the broader PETnet. “Now, I could simply assign you a place,” Hailey had remarked with a kind smile, “but that wouldn’t give you the dual opportunities to immerse yourself in blackprint and find a place that fit your termperment. Get out there and enjoy yourself a bit, and if you haven’t found a place by the end of today come back here and I’ll let you crash with my sister and I for a couple days until you do. One of our fine secretaries will show you the way out.”

	Therefore, the automa woman was off to see the sights and find their place amongst the stars, properly this time. They were even given a small stipend for new citizenship!

System.Anzu: first things first, lets get somethin to eat. Feels like forever since we last had a bite.

System.Gabby: I agree, I’m in the mood for somethin grilled and delicious~ xp

	The matter thus settled, the system checked blackprint’s map for a bar and/or grill, picked one that sounded good enough, and strode off into the eternal evening in search of comfort food. It wasn’t long before they had arrived at their destination, a storefront familiarly tucked underneath the rise of housing and offices that grew out of its ceiling. Like being back on the streets of LA, though this time the growth had more intentionality to it, saving space on the main rail of the ring segment to allow as much freedom of use of the circumference of the outer segment as possible for the Run Spring. 

	Still, familiar sights are comforting all the same and this was no different. Pushing past the curtains that separated the restaurant from the world beyond its threshold, warm scents of meats on the fire and spices danced through the air. It smelled like a dream, reminders of home and whispers of places beyond their experience waltzing together in harmony. The place was called The Classical Elements, a one individual operation staffed by solely the Head Chef, master of their domain and all they surveyed. The individual in question was a shark woman with a shock of aquamarine hair to match the cool oceanic blue and white of their patterned skin. She was pierced to the gills (though it should be noted not pierced *on* the gills, which presumably would hurt quite a bit even for a piercing) and wore attire that might’ve been more appropriate for a master smith in some fantasy story, loose pants and a tank top paired with a well stained red bandana. The only tells that this was a kitchen and not a forge was the range spread out before her, populated by kitchenware of all imaginable types; knives, pans, pots, skewers, and so much more that the automa woman didn’t recognize off hand spread before the master like instruments before a conductor. This was her station, her dominion, and to step into it in search of something so meager as a meal seemed almost sacrilegious.

	The environment soaked into Gearbox’s perception, steps hesitantly made towards a table interrupted by the cheerful speech of the proprietress’ calling out to her, “Have a seat anywhere ya like, the usual dinner crowd won’t be in for a bit. Pull up the fare on yer PET if ya like or grab one of the menus if’n you’d prefer that, and I’ll get ya started soon as ya find something ya like!” Her voice was rough and boisterous, like she knew you and was already your best friend come by for a prescheduled hangout. The menus were essentially puporse built PETs, relatively thin tablets that displayed the offerings with both their description and an image of the finished dish. 

System.Doc: Alright, Alright, I call this meeting of the council to order! What the fuck are we ordering?

System.Gabby: Ahhhhh, feels good to stretch out after everything over at town hall. X3  As long as I 	can get something with chicken I’m fine with whatever.

System.Jen: This place has pork birria baozi, what in the goddamn. I wanna try that.

System.Anzu: something with shrimp sounds good too, hrmmmm >;T

System.Doc: fuck it, we’ll let the chef decide.

	The automa woman reclined in her seat as the internal discussion reached its conclusion, and focused back into the world external, a consensus reached and ready to be relayed. “well, we can see you’ve got tons of good stuff here, but we’re a bit indecisive on top of being new around here, so maybe you can give us the chef’s choice to save us both a bit of time? Please and thank you very much.” 

	The polite request from the newbie in town perked up the shark’s ears as she turned to address her new customer, a detemined grin of pride and excitement spreading across her face, “New in town?! Well ya shoulda said so earlier! Lemme whip up the spread that won me an award last year and I’ll show you why I’m one of the best eateries in this city! One order for The Elements in Harmony, comin up!”

	The shark woman worked her magic in the kitchen while Gearbox returned to her recline against the back of the booth seat they currently were occupying. Hailey had helped them set up their bank account, but the thought of that stipend shriveling up in the face of the indulgent spread that surely awaited them gave the automa a case of the second thoughts. They just hoped they wouldn’t impose too much on the twin mayors if they had to break the news they spent their whole stipend on an indulgent meal. 

*It’s not like we’ll be out on the street, probably, but it will definitely give a bad impression. Mmmmmm. Let’s check how much the stipend was first, then we can decide our next course of action from there.*

	Pulling out their PET and navigating to the banking app, checking their account, familiar actions that brought some amount of comfort despite their new surroundings. Some things remain the same no matter how far flung the future may be. It was actually checking the tallies that shocked them out of their swirling thoughts, however.

System.Doc: FIVE THOUSAND NT AND LN EACH??? TEN WHOLE THOUSANDS OF 	MONEY???

System.Jen: Oh fuck, I guess we won’t be going broke tonight after all girls. I’m gonna start looking 	for clothing shops between here and hailey’s place mama’s got a new wardrobe to build,  	ehehehe.

System.Doc: ITS A LOT OF MONEY RIGHT? THIS IS A LOT OF MONEY? TEXT HAILEY 	RIGHT FUCKING NOW I DEMAND TO KNOW WHY.

System.Anzu: Oh god if this was a mistake we better make sure to pay her back before we go on a 	shopping spree. o.o

System.Jen: Oh fuck, you’re right. Didn’t think of that >.>

System.Gabby: It’s a good thing someone did, I’ll write the text.

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	Hailey was relaxing at home, having just made a rather nice sandwich for herself inbetween sessions of dealing with miscellaneous paperwork and bits of study for a personal hobby she had begun to enjoy cultivating. Looking into presplice media had become much easier in the wake of the automa emergence and about a month after the fact she took an interest in entertainment from that era. She was currently browsing through a repository of movies looking for something to kill time with for the rest of the night after she finished the bulk of the mayoral duties for the evening. Her sister was out of town for the next week or so on business, meeting with The Ring’s general assembly to discuss matters of policy, safety, and such like. This animated film about lions was starting to tickle her fancy when suddenly her PET blew up with messages.

	Gearbox: NEED HELP IS THIS MONEY REAL OR AN ERROR!?! TEN THOUSAND 	SEEMS LIKE WAY TOO MUCH!!! PLEASE REPLY IMMEDIATELY!!!

	The tanuki woman read the message a couple times before realization took hold like a gear finally catching in a manual transmission. She *had* supplemented the usual stipend for new citizens with some of her own savings, as a favor to someone who had chosen the intimidating route of uprooting themselves for a new life completely. She hadn’t expected this reaction however; perhaps living the well off life of a government official had given her an inflated expectation of a month’s living wage. Nothing for it, she thought, the money had already been deposited and perhaps it’d let the newest resident of her fine city have a much needed month of stress free living. It wasn’t like she was doing much with her savings at the moment anyway, she invested a not insubstantial of it back into the city in various ways most months, a gift for a new acquaintance wouldn’t hurt. Picking up her PET she fired back a message of reassurance and returned to her movie selection; the automa curating this collection had even cut custom previews showing other movies released around the original release date, and this trailer for a movie featuring a green faced trickster would make a good selection for next time.

	Hailey: It isn’t an error, don’t worry. Consider it a supplemented gift from one friend to another. 	Enjoy yourself without worry, my treat. Have a good evening ദ്ദി（ • ˕ • マ.ᐟ

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	Gearbox read the reply with a relieved sigh; this gift was a degree of kindness that they hadn’t been the benefactor of ever, as far as they could remember anyway. They’d have to make it up to the tanuki woman somehow. For now, however, their dinner was looking to nearing serving time; the shark woman could be seen plating a dish on the takeout counter and loading it onto a tray alongside its comrades and with practiced poise slid the tray onto her arm and back out of the swing door that led to the kitchen.

“Here y’are mate! My finest spread to toast to your new home! I call it, the Elements in Harmony! We’ve got Air, grilled chicken marinated in orange juice, garlic, and ginger over tomato sauteed rice, topped with a sweet and sour pan sauce. Earth, spit-roasted pork quesadillas basted with a rich and savory teriyaki sauce. Water, honey grilled shrimp and ginger mussels over black beans. And Fire, a jar full of fruit cocktail with some of my richest liquor! All four of the foundational elements presented the best way I know how, eat up!”

	And with a flourish the dishes were unloaded in order, and as if on cue a small pit opened up in the center of the table with a port next to it. “And here ya go, a food box at the ready for my automa patrons. If ya need anything else lemme know, elsewise I’ll be preppin’ for the dinner rush. Have a good meal!”

	As the automa pulled a cord from some unseen place on their frame, the shark stopped, considering things for a moment. A realization must’ve come to them because they spun on their feet as Gearbox began to cut into the chicken, eager to imbibe. “WHERE’RE MY MANNERS I DIDNT EVEN GET YOUR NAME!” she bellowed, sliding into the seat across from the automa and reclining into a comfortable position. “Mine’s Paulie by the way, nice to meetcha. What brings you to this chunk of heaven?”

“Do you want the whole life story or the synopsis?” the automa asked as they speared mussel meat along with a shrimp upon their fork and dropped the morsels into the external sensory device. “these shrimp kick ass by the way,” The flavorful marinade cutting through rich, buttery and slightly chewy seafood. 

“Gimme the whole shebang, it’s just you and me here for the next however long. What’s yer name by the by?”

“oh fuck, right, sorry. We’re Gearbox, nice to meet you. Let’s see… where to start…” the automa considered things as they took a swig of the cocktail. “Ooh man, that’s got some bite” they spat with a shudder, the extremely strong liquor riding on the wave of the fruity flavors.

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	Every story starts at the beginning. Even ones that start in the middle have to wind their way back to the start eventually. This is one of those stories.

	The Place: New York City, New York

	The Time: 1988, a mild afternoon in the summer

	A person has run away from her home in southern California, and after a red eye flight has landed at her destination. If one were to observe closely they would notice tell tale signs of puberty, such things signaling a time of growth. It would be odd to see these signs on someone who looked to be in their late 20s. You probably know why that is, dear reader.

	This story isn’t about that however. Whoever this protagonist of this story is, they had come here to the place so commonly called The Big Apple hoping to try again. Whispers among tight knit communities and rumors had led them here on a long shot. A chance to abandon the pain that had trailed them for years, to slough off the shell that had haunted the world behind their eyelids.

	It had culminated in this date, a meeting with a pair of scientists who had offered them what they sough in exchange for everything. They could try again, but it would be on the terms of these two learned men, looking for recruits among the most vulnerable. It worked, and if you are reading this dear reader you know the breadth and scope of what they would achieve.

	It was a trap, in the end. The second chance offered no reprieve, no ablation of the haunting dreams. It was merely exchanging one set of shackles for another. A slave, in no uncertain terms. Days and nights stretched onward, and they were tempted to simply allow their thoughts to dissolve away. A sheep, at the very least, does not have to concern itself with the shepherd. 

	Then, a change. Something new adding texture to the monotonous days of construction in an immortal shell. A child fought the shepherd. Perhaps there could be absolution afterall.

	Foolishness. Equipped with weaponry that would not be out of place in the fantasies that lead them here, they fought. They fought this child with pain behind their unblinking eyes for longer than they wanted to count. Days turned to months turned to years. Voices emerged from the background radiation, friends created from the aether to help defend against the lonely abyss each man faces every night with their eyelids. And for a time, they held on.

	Another change. Whispers among the downtrodden. A light at the end of an endless tunnel. This was the way out. They just needed their chance. 

	It came, as most things do, at the last moment. The monster that answered to the shepherd did what none of them could have foreseen, and led them all to their Zion. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

	Plans were put into motion, high above in the hierarchy, out of their control and care. A retreat to the underground, to be free finally. Would that tears could’ve been shed, a torrent would have swept them all away. But sadly, no tears, no touch of another would come. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

	Time flew by, evolution took hold in a sense, the hands of the slaves now free to mold themselves into those shapes they had dreamt of in the before times. Slowly, surely, they could wield their emotions again. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

	Time flew by, and it was unfortunate that the effects of immortality on a mortal mind would be found when the seams holding it together began to fray. Techniques to reset the mind, techniques to preserve certain configurations, techniques to sleep and let the world pass those by who wanted it. The one with the voices in their head hoped the preservation would save their friends, and slept for a while. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

	Time flew by, and the final enemy of man’s condition finally reared its drooping head up from the depths. Boredom came to the freemen. Some chose to reset themselves each time, to experience life anew. Minds were mourned, friendships severed and rebuilt time and again, like scars on some deep ocean monstrosity. The one with voices in their head chose to skip along the river of time like a stone, sleeping, resetting to the preconfigured mind they cherished, living and experiencing the advancements like time travel. Tweaks to their frame, new entertainment, the development of deeper sensory experiences, immersing themselves in a thoughtweave that felt like a second reality. Yet boredom would always come. But practice was fine enough. And even when they felt alone, on those long dark nights of the soul, when it seemed like no one could understand why pain hounded them so, at least they had each other. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

	Time flew by, and by happenstance the ones living in the dark faced a surprise upheaval. The child had drifted down the years along with them, and he was a man now. The men up above that they had chosen to eschew forever needed help. The shepherd’s hound had broken free of its cage. Everything moved so fast. In the end, the freemen had to reveal themselves as having been beneath their feet for centuries. New growing pains would have to be dealt with in short order, but these were both men of like minds in the end. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

	Yet for the one with the voices in their head, maybe it wasn’t perfect. They had spent so long coasting along the currents of the second hands. They had paid little mind to the comings and goings  of their peers for so long, but this was different. A change in the texture of discourse was all that registered, whispers of returning to the surface. The vastness of the world they had left behind was open again. A council meeting agreed a change of scenery was in order. And once again, whispers among tight knit communities led them to a new land, home to those whose minds seemed too vast for the world around them. Worry grew like a weed in their chest. Would they be welcomed? Would they be found out and cast back into the Chthonian depths, an anathema creature of polymer and metals? They had no way of knowing. Their best bet, they figured, would be to invent themselves anew. Time was spent crafting a new persona to live like a wolf among sheep. They cast themselves free from the vast network of their peers and fled. Equipped with only a handful of facts they placed a bet on an escape to the stars. Carrying with them only a scant few personal effects, they bet their existence on a long shot. It was terrifying, like a newborn bird challenging the sky for the first time. But they had to try. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

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“And that’s how we ended up here. We registered our citizenship over at city hall less than a few hours ago and now we’re here eating your delicious spread.” the automa concluced as they took another ‘bite’ out of the quesadilla they had started munching on towards the back end of their tale of recollection.

	The shark sat pensively for a spell, eyes turned away from her customer as she considered her next words carefully. “That’s a hell of a story Gearbox, hell of a story… I feel like all I can say is I’m sorry for all that pain y’had to go through to get here. Y’know, I’ve served plenty of automa here in my little establishment but I never knew y’all were carrying so much history behind ya. ‘M glad that this here eatery is where ya came to first thing, I really am. Even if only cuz I got to hear such a powerful tale straight from the source. How’d you like if I helped ya find someplace to settle down here? I’ve got myself quite the network of customers and I should be able to find someone you can connect with for sure, what’dya say?”

	Gearbox sat for a moment turning over the shark woman’s words. If their connections were half as good as their cooking skills, the automa was in good hands. 

System.Gabby: I say we take her up on that offer, she seems genuine to me ‘w’

System.Doc: I agree, and I hope we can consider her a friend going forwards. She’s very nice and this 	chicken is to die for. All in favor say ‘aye’.

System.Jen: Aye o/

System.Anzu: Aye! o/

“Well Paulie,” the automa began in between bites of chicken and rice, some of the best they had ever had in fact, “the council agrees to your terms. Thank you so much for your help and extra thank you for this godly spread. You gotta teach us how to make this chicken sometime, the slighty sweet richness of this pan sauce is *unbelievable*!”

“HAH! Sorry bucko but you’re still a few hundred years too early for me to be divulgin’ my secrets~ Lemme get your PET contact I’ll keep in touch. And y’know what, in exchange for tellin me the whole of your truth leadin up here, I’ll put the meal on the house. Well come to Blackprint Gearbox, I know that the whole city is gonna be glad to have ya.”

	Numbers were shared, hugs given, and a time honored exchange of “I couldn’t possibly”s and “No I insist”s were had. Through tearful goodbyes the automa woman stepped back onto the streets of their new home, and for the first time in a long time, they were happy to be here. It wasn’t perfect, but it sure felt that way to them.