Altair Tarazawa's romantic dramedy adventure by ChrysaorIV, journal
Altair Tarazawa's romantic dramedy adventure
before I ruin your mental image with my drunkenly fatigue-induced low quality shit, please go read the actual comic.
Sincerely, this thing is pure gold. Best webcomic I've ever read, hands down.
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Altair wiped her brow and set the axe next to the door. Lunch break only lasts so long, so there was no real point in putting it away properly. She opened the door and breathed in the slightly cooler air of her house, courtesy of air conditioning. It had been a bit of a pain to get ahold of way out here in the sticks, but compared to the endless heat of summer, it had been worth the investment.
She mad
From night to day. Like lions of a pride. I can't think of someone I'd rather have by my side. Medabots are cool this one's the coolest. Cool as ice. which is oh so nice. From spring to fall, Winter to Summer. I can't think of anyone better than Hummer.
Another Day Patrolling The Streets by Siara-chan, literature
Literature
Another Day Patrolling The Streets
The crime rate wasn't going down no matter how many Medabots the company sent out to patrol the streets of the city. There is always another crime lord to fight down on the ground or another hijacking to stop up in the air. No amount of cop work seemed to be enough and it seemed to bother Altair today for some reason.
As she and her partner Hummer patrolled the streets on an early Monday morning, her thoughts seemed to consume her more than usual. Altair tried to avoid looking at her feet that weren't her feet anymore, staring ahead only, and she tried not to think about the closed food stands that will fill up the moment the clock hits 8 am
She loved the feel of the wind under her metal wings. She loved hurtling through the buildings, twisting and turning and just missing them as they gave chase. And she loved the screams when she caught them.
What she didn’t love was trying to be covert in the middle of a shopping mall.
“Altair? Altair, do you read me?” The radio crackled on.
“Yes,” she muttered quietly, staring dangerously at a young child in a stroller. “Shut up ok?” She shifted uncomfortably; the awkward shawl she used to hide her wings made her feel cramped and stupid. “This is stupid.”
“What was that?”