Work Text:
You’re fucked.
Your cybernetic arm is a swift breeze away from scrap metal, and your audio processor in your ear implant are malfunctioning. instead of the quiet scurry of mice and other crap of the deserted alleyway, all you hear is a loop of a nakodile nature documentary.
Your tactile nerve imput also seems to be cranked up to 11. The texture of your tank top fabric as it shifts against your chest as you walk is starting to get distracting.
You could unquestionably fix all of this yourself. You could rewire and upgrade all this shit in your sleep. There are two problems.
1 - having an arm out for the count is a pretty large fucking handicap for the delicate wiring and fine tuning required. An inconvenience but not impossible, especially for your quality of work. But that’s where we come to problem number 2.
Fixing this shit hurts like a son of a bitch. Like spill all the tea, launch codes are in the briefcase, type sonofabitch. Which telling your secrets to yourself sucks, you don’t want to hear that shit. Last time you tried to fix your arm yourself, you passed out and when you woke up, some asshole had stolen half your implants n pawned them black-market style. And that is the type of massive cluster fuck of an inconvenience you can’t afford right now. This fixing needs to be quick, preferably painless, and kept on the DL.
Which limits your options for help considerably. Rox is away on their own top-secret bullshit. You wouldn’t trust Dave or John with a toaster nevermind your implants. They’d replace your dick with a rubber chicken or something else mind-numbingly juvenile, regardless of how important your work is right now.
So that leaves the trolls. Your gonna have to suck it up and go to Equius.
You have nothing against Eq. On the contrary you feel you might have too much in common with him and his … interests. His horse “appreciation”, engineering skills, and predilection to being ordered compliments your controlling tendencies nicely. No, whats royally rustling your jimmies is, he’s currently a business partner with that snarky shit Sollux. Which apparently means they are inseparable now.
Sollux certainly knows his shit, you can reluctantly admit. Even more reluctantly you admit he’s better at coding than you are. Sure you created an AI at 13, but he somehow built a computer that ran on bees?
Anyway, you trust Sollux about as far as you can throw him. Which is maybe about 3 meters. He’s a small guy, and he is part of your rag tag rebellion team, so some trust is there. But he is a genius and an asshole. The two traits that make up a lot of your own personal neuroses .
Equius will help you out no problem, but Sollux will demand payment, not the monetary variety either. Sexy payment.
So you are literally, going to be fucked.
Probably multiple times.
This might be a good time to test out that vibration function you installed in your cybernetic hip…