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RP: YSS Kaiyō Pre-Mission Thirteen: Chlorate Learns Some Sacred Lessons


Well-Known Member
YSS Kaiyo II

It was late into Kaiyo's night as Sacre stepped into the small changing room that led to the Onsen. She was fairly certain that her late night relaxation would be private. She had just spent a marathon session in the simulator improving on her skills as a medic. It was intense, so now she just wanted to relax.

Chlorate was already in the Onsen, having decided to enter it out of curiousity earlier. Only her head was exposed above the water, partially giving the illusion that she was a real organic person with white hair and yellow irises that glowed.

Sacre quickly went through the ritual to clean herself to enter the Onsen. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She was freakishly tall and lanky. Thousands of scars criscrossed her body. Some of them were large and hadn't healed well. One of the largest scars completely circled her tail about half way down. Although it was prominant, it was far from the only prominant scar that cut through the noise of lesser scars to announce their presence. Except for her forearms, there was hardly a place on her body where one could look to avoid the scars.

Sacre was suprised to see the robot in the water. "When I thought about tossing a toaster in the pool, I didn't expect you would be the toaster." She commented as she slid into the water.

Chlorate looked at Sacre and tilted her head. "But I am not a toaster?" she asked, confused.

Sacre rolled her eyes, "Figure of speech." She said as she started to lay her long lanky body across the pool.

"What does it mean?" inquired Chlorate as she layed in the pool. Normally she would feel cold on touch, but she was actually comfortably warm because the Onsen was heating up her metal.

Sacre considered for a moment. In retrospect, she probably shouldn't have said that she was thinking about tossing a toaster in the Onsen. She shrugged, "It's a vaugely insulting way to refer to a cromedome." She said with a straight face.

Chlorate glanced up, noticing how she did not have a chrome dome. "What is a chromedome?" she asked.

Sacre smirked slightly, "A insulting way to refer to a Glorified waffle iron."

Chlorate paused, and looked around the room. She couldn't see a waffle iron anywhere. She ducked underwater and searched the Onsen to no success. She eventually popped back up, reporting "I do not see a device that can be used to increase the temperature of batter and mold it into a waffle in here."

Sacre felt kinda bad for Chlorate. However, she pressed on. "Of course not, it was a part of the figure of speech. There are a billion ways to insult someone. In this case, you."

Chlorate made a confused beep, looking at herself, then looking at Sacre. "I do not understand...?" she said.

Sacre was amazed at how the bucket of bolts could turn any conversation into someone trying to teach her something very basic about how the world worked. "I insulted you, verbally, greaseglob. What's so hard to understand about that? Did your brain come from the lowest bidder?"

"OH!" Chlorate cheered, happily. "I understand now!" Her expression slowly changed into the most dejected frown as she realized ".....Oh. ...Oh... Oh I see..." She sank deeper into the Onsen, saddened. "My electronic brain was never involved in an auction," she said sadly, now submerging her chin into the water.

In a way it was kinda heartbreaking to watch the robot's expression go from cheery to dejection. Sacre was irritated with herself. "Well it sure seems like it. When someone insults you, don't get depressed. Don't let it get to you, and then fire one right back." Sacre suggested.

"Fire one right back...? How do I do that?" Chlorate asked, bringing herself up so her chin was no longer in the water. She tried to think of a way to make an insult in her mind, but they mostly ended up being random facts about people rather than insults.

"You tell them what you think about them. The most powerful ones are things that are true, or close enough to true that it hurts. A lie doesn't insult someone because they know it's not true and it's water over a duck's back. The thing is, a good insults can be hard to come up with on the spot. That's why you should always have a mental list of ones that you can use at the appropriate moment. I didn't come up with Toaster on the spot, I had toaster ready for if I ever wanted to insult a artifical person." Sacre explained. "So what'cha got for me you misguided mechanical misfit?" She pushed.

Chlorate looked at Sacre. She thought. She beeped, eventually coming up with an... eh.... "insult" she deemed suffecient. "I think you are a long medic," she declared. At least she stated something that was true...

Sacre shook her head, "That's not good enough, it's a simple description. We'll start with something easy, give me one about my looks."

Chlorate scanned Sacre. "You are green, long, and appear to have significant amounts of scarring on the epidermis," she stated.

Sacre shook her head, "Simple discription. There's nothing scornful or disrespectful about it. Try again. Something with the scars perhaps."

"How?" she asked. "What do I say that is disrespectful?"

Sacre considered for a moment, "Well, do you know how to be respectful?" She asked.

"Affirmative," the robot responded.

"Verbally, do the oppsite of that. Rather then telling me something that is good about me, tell me something that's bad. But not just the raw fact, embelish it or compare it to something known to be bad." Sacre suggested.

Chlorate thought longer and harder, focusing on her scars. "Your body has an extremely large amount of scars and is not commonly considered to be pleasing to the eye!" she cried out out, trying to form some sort of insult.

Sacre laughed and sidled up beside Chlorate. "That's how you do it. A bit weak and long winded, but it's a start."

"How do I improve it?" the gynoid asked. Her metal was very warming when touched.

Sacre considered for a moment, "Analogys. Brevity is a virtue too I supose. However, I get the feeling your style is a bit more sly then that. You probably want to ride closer to the truth then I do. If I were instulting me that way, I'd probalby say something like 'scarred tree stump of a face' or something. However, that's not what you would say because it wouldn't sound like it came from you. You would just be parroting me."

"What about... You do not have legs and are very scarred!" she said, making a new insult. "Also I can assure you that I am not a bird.

Sacre shook her head, "Those are just facts. Do you know what an analogy is?" Sacre asked.

"Yes," Chlorate replied with a beep, rising a little further out of the water.

"Try using an analogy to connect the fact with how you are insulting me." Sacre coached.

Chlorate sat there silently for a moment, trying to process something to say. "You are as legless and scarred as... a snake that was set on fire?" she said unconfidently.

"Snakes are already legless, and I like my tail. Your are making a close anology, try to wander a bit farther afield. Something more along the lines of if you were insulting my inteligance 'If brains were beans, you wouldn't have enough to make a fly burp.'" Sacre suggested.

Chlorate squinted and stared directly in front of herself into nothingness as she thought of another insult. She looked at Sacre then declared "If one were to use a cheese grating device on a worm, that would appear quite similar to you!"

Sacre burst out into a happy laugh, she rarely smiled, but there was one there for Chlorate. "Exelent! Now your getting it." She said.

Chlorate didn't stop there. "You appear as if you were a straw that was chewed up and deposited in a paper shredder! You look like someone used sandpaper on an electrical cord! Your mother most likely resembled a rotten stringbean!" she shouted.

"Good!" Sacre exclaimed, her long tail swishing the water. She slid over to the Robot and leaned in as if to share a secret. "Now, you have it. Your armed against assholes like me. There is a whole galaxy of people out there who will demean you and put you down. You can't listen to them, not really. Because if you listen to them, you'll start to believe the lies they are telling about who you are. Now, istead of just cowering behind your self confidence, you can shoot back and perhaps take some of them with you." Sacre explained.

"Shoot back? With a weapon...? Is that not harmful?" Chlorate asked, confused, and somewhat shocked.

Sacre realized that she had worded her statement poorly. "Yes, but sometimes they deserve it. Chlorate, words are a kind of weapon, but their not just weapons. Their a lot like knives actually. Here's the thing, words can cut, they can hurt others and yourself. But they aren't exclusively things to hurt someone with. A knife isn't exclusively something to stab someone with. A knife has a lot of good and useful purposes such as helping you build, cook, survive. Words have a lot of good uses, they can be used to build someone up, make them happy, sad. It all depends on how you use them. Even when your using the cutting end of the knife, or cutting words. They can be used to defend others, fight for what you believe in. Creative insults are just a way words can be used to get what you want. The important thing that makes them good or bad is you and why you are using them." Sacre said with suprising passion.

"But words aren't a phys-" Chlorate cut herself off and beeped, coming to a realization. "Oh this is an analogy is it not? So I can use an insult on someone who has done something to emotionally harm someone I care about?"

Sacre nodded, "Yes, and much more. I'm not the one to teach you encouragement, but those are powerful words as well. Ones you can use to heal and build up."

"Which words?" Chlorate asked, "You are saying if I use an insult on someone I care about they will appreciate it?"

Sacre sighed, "I'm not good at encouragement. My way of encouragement is saying something like 'you didn't completely fail.' but that's not it." Sacre paused trying to think of the right words. "It's like the opposite of an insult. Take something good about someone and magnify it. Help them see how something that their good at can help them. Something like..." Sacre looked at Clorate and tried to come up with something, anything good to say about the robot. Nothing came to mind. You don't bother me much wasn't really a compliment or encouraging. "Your naivete is a unique way of looking at the world." Sacre said weakly. "That's not a good one. Like I said, I'm not the person to teach you them."

"I understand now... Thank you Ittô Heisho Sacre." Suddenly, her artificial body moved through the water towards Sacre. Her arms that were warmed by the onsen were open, and she attempted to hug Sacre.

Sacre saw it coming, but not nearly in time to stop the robot from wrapping her in it's warm metalic arms. Sacre didn't want to be hugged, she didn't like the feeling of being trapped by the robot. She felt panic start to rise inside her. So she wrapped Chlorate with her powerful tail and pulled her off. Then tossed her away from Sacre. Sacre felt anger at the robot. "You nieve lump of useless metal. Some people don't like being touched." She yelled angrily at the robot and turned away towards the changing room asthe nice relaxing bath had been ruined.

Chlorate's eyes widened in surprise, she didn't realize what was happening fast enough to react and save herself from the throw. "AAAAAAAAAA!" she yelped electronically. With a massive CLONK she collided with the floor, and she rubbed her head with her metallic hand. She got back up, and evidently a plastic plate on her back had cracked from the impact. "Minor damage detected..." she reported, clanking back to the Onsen. "M-my apologies! I-I did not know!" she cried out worriedly, now feeling the plastic that had cracked with her robotic hand.

Sacre continued through the door without looking back. "Go find a mechanic then." She said, coming off as much colder then she intended. If Sacre could have fixed her, she might have stopped. But she couldn't, so she didn't.

"Oh no!" Chlorate exclaimed, worried. She was afraid of how Mark would react- or maybe even Hoshi, if she saw her like this. She clanked out the door and tried to find a solution to fix her cracked plastic, which could not heal on its own. Worst of all, the poor Chlobot blamed herself for hugging Sacre. "How could I do this..." she cried, interpreting her hug to be some terrible offense.