Board Thread:Fun and Games/@comment-24839525-20180410123959/@comment-28372626-20180410234651

A fleeting moment passes, but then the girl relaxes her shoulders. Her voice is noticeably monotone as she massages her burned hands. "I don't want money. What I want is justice for humanity. All of these blasted robots are taking over our lives. One day," and she pauses to lock eyes with Xarmos, "what if all the robots decided to short out? Where would we find our people, hopelessly addicted to conveniences of technology? In Armageddon, of course." She sits down and roughly musses up her hair. "Ever heard of Valedon?" She doesn't stop to give Xarmos a chance to answer. "I bet you haven't. They used to be the most renowned mechanics in all the city. My father was the greatest of them all. But now, with all them blasted self-repairing robots and mass-producing spare-parts lines, who needs human mechanics anymore?" Her face is bleak and sullen. "Just a living being to make more errors, I guess. That's what you all think. But grant you this, Xarmos. Someday, someday, the robots are going to fail us. And when they do, you're going to crawl to me, Evening Valedon, and beg for me to come repair your precious machines." She glares menancingly at the little alien, having finished her monologue.