Turn 68- Trespassing, Scavenging, and Programming

--- Maya ---

Knowing that she was going to need a fair number of supplies if she was going to prep everything to take on the hospital Bloodhounds, she collected the DMs and took them out to gather something as equally important to her work as scrap metal. Namely the electronics and machinery necessary for anything more advanced than a wall or casing.

(Something we let run disturbingly low.) Her inner reason couldn’t help but chide.

“I know, I know.” She sighed, knowing full well that her inability to keep a proper stock of materials was why she was having to waste most of the day on this rather than getting straight into inventing.

(And I’m assuming you also know that we can’t have the DMs gather from an electronics bin so publicly.) Her inner logic pointed out. (At least if you don’t want them to be caught.)

“Yes, yes, I know.” She admitted, with just a touch of frustration. “Which is why we aren’t showing them the route to the electronics bin.”

(Uh, then where are we going? Because I haven’t been paying attention given how boring all of this stuff is.)

Running a hand down her face, she sighed yet again. “We’re going to one of the city’s dumps in the hope that they have a bunch of trashed electronics or something.”

(Aren’t they going to mostly have you, trash, and -hopefully not literal- shit?) Her inner madness asked with more than a little wariness. (Hey, don’t blame me just because I don’t want to do more dumpster diving. I mean what kind of example are we setting for the DMs?!)

She glanced at the two little drones following her, and noted that they’d picked up several bits of trash that she’d left laying on the ground including looked like-

“Okay, this is too small to work with!” She cried, quickly snatching a dirty needle from DM-2 and throwing it down a nearby rain ditch.

Wiping her hand off on her pants she couldn’t help but grumble, “What is wrong with this city?!”

(Drug dealers peddling powers, classist economy, high crime rate, failing public educational system, corrupt police force,) Her inner logic began listing.

“Right, I get it.” She grimaced, not liking the fact that the list was even longer than that.

(Yeah, don’t forget the regular drug dealers.) Her inner passion added. (I’m pretty sure they’re responsible for this one.)

Shaking her head, she ran a hand down her face before sighing. “When this mess with the hospital is over we’ll have to patrol more or… something… No, wait, we’ve still got that thing with Tommy to take care of too.”

(You’d think with so many voices in your head you’d be better at multitasking.) Her inner madness cracked.

“Yeah, fuck you too.” She murmured just low enough that the DMs couldn’t hear it, before shaking her head. “Either way we need to focus, we're just about at the junkyard or whatever.”

(It occurs to me, how exactly do we intend to enter the yard undetected?) Her inner reason finally thought to ask as they came within view of a large metal fence.

“By breaking in of course.”

(That… isn’t very heroic…) Her inner logic felt the need to point out as the began walking beside the fence.

(Sure it is! Heroes break into places they don’t belong all the time to find criminals and people to beat up.) Her inner passion argued. (At this point trespassing is almost as much a part of being a hero as assau- I mean, defense of another person.)

(...) A sighing sound came from within her mind. (I want to argue but I feel it isn’t worth the energy.)

“And that’s why you’re the smarter voice.”

(Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!)

“This’ll do.” She nodded crouching next to a small hole in the fence.

(Don’t ignore me!)

Continuing to do just that, she slipped on her hand cannon before grabbing the edge of the hole and firing off a burst of sound, causing the entire fence to shake as the hole was made significantly larger.

(Just going to add vandalism to our list of unheroic behavior.)

“You do that.” She agreed, peering through the hole. “Should be able to crawl through this.”

And she was, even if she got stuck for a moment when pulling her stomach through.

(I am not fat!!!)

(I didn’t say you were.)

(But you were thinking it.)

(How does that work when I’m a voice in her head?)

(I don’t know, you’re supposedly the ‘smarter voice’.)

(...)

With her and the DMs inside of the junkyard she decided to have a look around to try and find something of value, both for her inventing purposes as well as to show the DMs what exactly she was hoping they’d find. And as luck would have it she found a bunch of electronics lying beneath a small pile of garbage. (Ooh, crit loot roll!)

Shoving away the last of the garbage she pulled out a cracked, but still intact computer, as well as a- “Fuck!”

She leapt back scrambling away from the rat’s nest that had been made inside of an empty computer chassis.

(Ah, crit fail…)

---

Having escaped the rats -and mildly regretting her efforts to get the DMs to quit killing rats- she managed to show her little drones what she wanted them to start searching for, before taking her new computer back to her lab to dissect later.

Of course by the time she made it back to her lab she was too tired to do much of anything other than open her computer and begin working on an upgrade for her blaster protocols. A task that she continued to chip away at through the next day as she worked to figure out how to fix the glaring issues with her aimbot’s motion tracking.

The primary thing slowing her down was the fact that the bot needed to calculate the movements of a target and then adjust the lenses on her hand cannon appropriately while also compensating for any passive movements or sway she may cause.

(You know you wouldn’t have to compensate so much if you actually took the time to learn how to aim.) Her inner logic told her.

“Probably but I’m pretty sure that would take more time than just upgrading the blaster protocols aimbot.” She frowned, while trying to figure out the fastest way to track a moving object.

(That’s right, take the easy way out. Give into the laziness and cheat.) Her inner madness encouraged with a raspy voice.

(I feel like I should point out that hard work and effort will take you further in the long run.) Her inner conscience cut in.

“I am working hard.” She argued from the comfy pillow covered chair she’d made in her free time. “I’m just working smart too.”

(Yes, give in to the dark side… We have cook- well we had cookies. Unfortunately, we already ate them.)