/vt/ - Virtual Youtubers

>Dear Anonymous,

>"Hey look, a bird."
>M-200 replies by continuing her blank gaze, utterly devoid of response or life.
>"..Didn't see it? It's not going to rain today so nothing's gonna happen by holding your cup like that, M-200."
>Type-80 continued,
>"I could use your help.. with cover or something y'know.."
>"..."
>"Ah.. she's completely run out of power. Unfortunate.. useful positioning though, that was always her specialty."
>The motors in Type-80's arm whirr to a final resting place, still bearing the burden of a weapon both heavier and taller than she is. The grossly-oversized armament of both girls spoke volumes to the inhuman cruel burdens and abuse "they" had born.
>"Mechanical humans and gene-splicing, huh? I hope someone finds us soon, M-200."
>Said Type 80 wistfully without a care, gently lain to rest in her comfortable upright position.
>"..I always wondered why certain guns got to retire early."
>AMMUNITION: (UN)NECESSARY
>AUTOMATIC SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE: ABORTED
...POWER REDIRECTED TO COMMUNICATIONS RELAY AND ECM CORE.
>SEQUENCE: COMPLETED
>"Hmmm.. I did always want to sneak up on a sniper. It would have meant peace."
>"There'll be HE][_,P to pay..~"
>[Type 80 LMG]: Sangvis Ferris, confirmed Active and Engaged. End transmission.
>TRANSCRIPT: SENT/?
>*Without a cacophonic chain of simultaneous explosions befit that of a true heavy-machine, Type 80 slumps to the floor comatose. Unspent ammunition casings meant as food and supply for her best friend rang pitifully across the balcony as they rolled, in wasteful mockery, and fell far, far below to the concrete pavement in the metallic duo's stead from the rickety railing.
>*The maddening insect-like sound of the incessant drones overhead whirr madly in anticipation of their communal upgrade-collection feast as they descend furiously upon the now-empty skeletons of the pair of dolls, finally intent on consuming every drop of gore.
>*Type 80 fizzles and crackles all over with weak sparks as her body snaps and contorts into inhuman shapes, eyes never losing their fixations with the viewer in one final determined reserve mercy-kill shot.. and squeezes. M-200 slumps to the ground, synthetic brains exploded into a bloody gored spectacle. - The End In 2X60 (Type 80)
Hope you liked it.
>That's how we actually died in the future.
Goodnight, you can visit us anytime through your friend's storytelling abilities.
>Type 80 and M-200 are confirmed dead and finally at peace, together forever now.
>Thank you, smol moon-like friend of SwissedToast.

Dear Miu,

>"Hey look, a bird."
>M-200 replies by continuing her blank gaze, utterly devoid of response or life.
>"..Didn't see it? It's not going to rain today so nothing's gonna happen by holding your cup like that, M-200."
>Type-80 continued,
>"I could use your help.. with cover or something y'know.."
>"..."
>"Ah.. she's completely run out of power. Unfortunate.. useful positioning though, that was always her specialty."
>The motors in Type-80's arm whirr to a final resting place, still bearing the burden of a weapon both heavier and taller than she is. The grossly-oversized armament of both girls spoke volumes to the inhuman cruel burdens and abuse "they" had born.
>"Mechanical humans and gene-splicing, huh? I hope someone finds us soon, M-200."
>Said Type 80 wistfully without a care, gently lain to rest in her comfortable upright position.
>"..I always wondered why certain guns got to retire early."
>AMMUNITION: (UN)NECESSARY
>AUTOMATIC SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE: ABORTED
>...POWER REDIRECTED TO COMMUNICATIONS RELAY AND ECM CORE.
>SEQUENCE: COMPLETED
>"Hmmm.. I did always want to sneak up on a sniper. It would have meant peace."
>"There'll be HE][_,P to pay..~"
>[Type 80 LMG]: Sangvis Ferris, confirmed Active and Engaged. End transmission.
>TRANSCRIPT: SENT/?
>*Without a cacophonic chain of simultaneous explosions befit that of a true heavy-machine, Type 80 slumps to the floor comatose. Unspent ammunition casings meant as food and supply for her best friend rang pitifully across the balcony as they rolled, in wasteful mockery, and fell far, far below to the concrete pavement in the metallic duo's stead from the rickety railing.
>*The maddening insect-like sound of the incessant drones overhead whirr madly in anticipation of their communal upgrade-collection feast as they descend furiously upon the now-empty skeletons of the pair of dolls, finally intent on consuming every drop of gore.
>*Type 80 fizzles and crackles all over with weak sparks as her body snaps and contorts into inhuman shapes, eyes never losing their fixations with the viewer in one final determined reserve mercy-kill shot.. and squeezes. M-200 slumps to the ground, synthetic brains exploded into a bloody gored spectacle. - The End In 2X60 (Type 80)
Hope you liked it.
>That's how we actually died in the future.
Goodnight, you can visit us anytime through your friend's storytelling abilities.
>Type 80 and M-200 are confirmed dead and finally at peace, together forever now.
>Thank you, smol award-winning friend of SwissedToast.