Chapter Text
the recording flickers on, revealing a rather short looking drone with purple hair and eyes. she sat quietly in a pilot's chair and wore a neutral expression, fidgeting ever so slightly with her hands as she began to speak.
"hello, i'm uzi. i'm the primary narrator of this series i'll call... uh, 'murder drones, misconceptions and corrections.' or something, i don't know. it's a work in progress." she raises her hands and gestures vaguely, suddenly looking a little more nervous than before.
another voice cuts in, masculine but high pitched, "uzi, i thought we were gonna call it-" she cuts him off, suddenly looking very peeved.
"the old name was CRINGE! i changed my mind, we're keeping this one." she huffs and crosses her arms, continuing, "this'll be, like, a documentary on disassembly drones and stuff. temperaments, behaviors, what to do when you come across one and aren't, like, immediately killed and eaten... all that stuff," she sucks in a breath at this, shrugging uncomfortably, "the two drones i'll be using as test subjects for my awesomely evil experiments are serial designation N and V, who- ...what? N, what are-"
a sheet of paper held by a large, clawed hand, rustles in the corner of the video, to which uzi leans forward and grabs. she sits down for a moment before her neutral expression cracks into a grin of sincere joy before subduing again almost immediately.
"when you think 'murder drone,' you don't think 'future world class artist,' right?" she smirks then flips the sheet of paper around, revealing a crude sketch of three humanoid figures, the tallest two colored in with bright yellow crayon and the third colored in with blue and red, blended together as if trying to make purple, "well, think again. this was drawn by my AMAZING buddy N-" the hand reaches out once again as if on cue, and gives an enthusiastic thumbs up, "who is a murder drone! HA!" she slams her hands on the arms of the chair, then calmly retracts them to her lap and clears her throat, "okay, whatever, that was all i had to say. N, you can stop recording now we're d-" the feed cuts short.