Chapter Text
Gun! Red and blue both reached for it. Their hands pressed together over the handle. V2 relented. It could use knuckleblaster a while longer— leaving V1 defenceless didn’t sit well with them. They needn’t have fought over the weapon, the terminals were selling them. V1 was amazing at gaining the credits, the terminals adored their flashy moves. When they did falter, a rarity, V2 was there to follow up and help them. Yet, V2 was a little conflicted. This life of constant fast paced survival was what it’s predecessor had been made for. It was so lost down here, in this maze of murder. There were a few scientists around, but they were dead or dying.
V2 is brooding. Big time. Pulling out the link cable, V1 decided making a connection first was a better idea. Tapping V2 on the shoulder it brandished one end of the cord. Finally. Interfacing again. They started by sharing their current music as always. This made V2 seem to connect back with reality, looking beyond the vacant faces to the facility they were in. V2 still declined to talk for the moment, however. It was hard to fight with their link cable in the way, but now they had a second pair of hands. The precise shots quickly rang out. V1 found themselves loving the piercer. They looked just slightly in front of themselves, watching bullets ricochet off the walls into their husk marks. Now that was marksmanship… the same targeting system as theirs but so efficient. They personally just couldn’t resist the flair. They followed behind as V2 approached something bleeding to get its fill. Good.
Soon enough they were parallel with another machine… yellow and brandishing some sort of makeshift sword. Barely hours into hell and already this one was scrapping their fellows to improve itself. Before they could comment on the mechanical blade, V2 pressed a finger over their optic to hush them, and pinged the shotgun in their adversary’s other hand. Then it disconnected their link cable. Aw. Fine. Survival first. But sword later…
Of course, swordsmachine stood no chance against the two of them. Once it was just a pile of metal and gore on the ground, V2 crouched beside it and began scavenging the parts. It got the shotgun out easily, but stopped at the sword attachment. There would be no way to get it working without just welding half of the other machine to V1’s body.
“V1, you’re too pretty to weld this schmuck to you just so you have a sword” it had pouted. Of course they’d relented. V2 took the shotgun. It was only fair. Though it hid it away for a period of time while they were stopped at a terminal. A little miffed, V1 had entered into the ‘cybergrind’ to give it the time it wanted. There was no grinding of the best sort, though they were having fun. Bouncing along the geometric ground dispatching and splattering everything was super fun! Hold on what is that thing…
Tall and imposing and holding some sort of orb in hand…? Next thing they knew they were bolt upright beside the terminal. V2 was holding something behind its back, reaching the other hand to help them up. It presented the gift shyly.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t get that sword.” What pathetic sword? This is possibly cooler. The shotgun was now attached to a chainsaw blade… with a wire they could use to launch it! Perfect. Wonderful. They took V2’s hand and hopped up and slammed down repeatedly.
V2’s body was shaken vigorously by V1 as they hopped up and down happily. They only stopped to offer the link cable again, to share what had happened in the cybergrind. It felt V1’s happiness, affection and gratitude and the lingering adrenaline and fear caused by the cybergrind and V1’s death to a yet unknown demon… it sent them the recording of its perspective of the swordsmachine fight. Reassurance that they could take hell’s nasty surprises together.
Their next weapon find was a fun one. A modified nail gun. V1 quickly took to the magnets, though later they had stared longingly at V2’s overheat and ended up buying one of those too. V2, on its part, was committed to buying only what did the best damage first. The journey passed uneventfully. Nothing could ever square up with a determined V model, let alone both of them. Eventually they stepped into a manor near what was hopefully the edge of limbo. V2 stared transfixed at one of the stained glass windows. That is a FINE piece of ass… a very fine winged piece of ass holding a spear.
V1 decides then is a good time to chirp and brandish the communication cable. It complies. The echoing sentiment is *I want to take that guy. In a fight at the very least.* Is he that hot? (A/N, ye) eventually they both tear their eye away from the mural. Picking up the blue skulls, they walk up to the big door. It doesn’t open.
“Was there something to kill here that we missed?” A head shake. “What do we do then?” V1 taps excitedly at one of its wing blades. Very well. Pulling out the contents they begin swapping weapons to try… on each other… the courtyard rings with gunshots, slides, jumps and slams as both of them put each other through their paces. V1 stays quiet as always but V2 can tell they’re dancing along to one of their little songs. After what feels like an eternity, V1 is victorious, pinning down their sparring partner against the flowerbed. They stare at the knuckleblaster longingly. After a moment of weakness V2 caves like an idiot. It begins unscrewing its precious arm just for V1 to try. What a joke of a security bot they are. Giving up their built in arm module for an excited idiot. Said idiot gets the idea soon and now they’ve swapped arms. Time to use them on each other again…?
They beat each other to an inch of their lives. Then share blood between their fuel tanks to do it all over again. Parrying is fun. It feels right… like an extension of its intended function as a protector. Maybe it was.
After a few more rounds of their little game the courtyard was a mess. Nails in the flowerbeds, crumbled pillars, scuff marks on every surface and blood all over to boot. Finally, V2 yielded. For its trouble it got a lap full of whirring gloating predecessor. With both of their processors running so high they stayed like that for a bit. Oh. The door down was already open. No matter. They could lay here a while longer. It’s a little weird linking fingers with its own arm but the happy little flutter of V1’s optic is priceless. It brandishes the cable again. Along with the emotional reward of a long fight, uncertainty sits like a blood clot.
“Vi. What’s bothering you? Need your arm back?” V1 shows an image of them laying in the dark on a large pile of bodies. “Blood is finite? I suppose so… but that never bothered you when we connected before.” Another picture, this one of them cuddled up under the stars with the blurry form of V2 itself. Evidently V1 had been trying to hide the identity of the second machine in the picture but with V1 itself as a benchmark how could it not have known?
It lets V1 hide against the lettering and LEDs of its chestplate for a while it thinks hard. Their demise was inevitable like this… but the motivation to keep fueled so they could stay together longer? Appealing. Very very appealing. Speaking of keeping fueled. The door was open, and they were better off not as sitting ducks, thanks.
Lust was beautiful. And full of blood. An hour or so into their time in the city, V1 was doing something strange between fights. Stowing its gun to hold knuckleblaster in their weapon hand, beeping merrily.
“What are you doing now?” No response. Just happy beeping as it squeezed the hand of its newly borrowed red arm and kept descending. It stopped after yet another refuelling to drag two of the street cleaners and link their hands, pointing at it before continuing to move. Oh. Whatever floats your robo boat? This over running fast and killing stuff? Maybe the ambiance of the city itself was affecting their adaptation module. V2 stowed its gun to pick up a blue skull. “V1, door’s that way” but they were staring into the apartment window, pressing their face up to it with a little clink. V2 released a puff of hot air through its vents and began trying to break in without damaging the door. “We can pretend for a bit if you like. Come on”
They soon kick out the little green… rat living in the floorboards. He does get to sit in a large cardboard box in the corner and fed bloodless flesh. Theres… only one bed. It does make a lot of sense in an apartment in Lust at least. They spend their morning splitting a filth for breakfast, then the rest of the day leaned up to each other scanning books and taking apart their guns to wipe them down together. (WE DO NOT TALK ABOUT HOW THE NIGHT WAS SPENT WINK WONK) The next day V1 is already itching to run out again but they do write one thing down on a post-it and stick it to V2’s chest.
AGAIN SOMETIME
Then they’re off. The green rodent gets shoved into V1’s wing blade and probably witnesses too many horrors while moving through gluttony… crawling through the guts of a giant husk SEEMS cool in principle, but with no infinite blood to drink it ends up quite lackluster. Boosting each other up a jagged flesh wall, someone seems unhappy to see them there… V1, ever the little shit walks forward first.
“Your choice is made. As the righteous hand of the father, I shall rend you apart, and you will become inanimate once more…” sure. V1 stops at the terminal to see if they can get the recolour they wanted. Boredly, V2 proceeds without them. It can’t hurt– nothing in hell could stand up to them anyway.