[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjQ0LjNjZDNjYy5RWFYwYjIxaGRHOXUuMAAA/th3-machine.regular.png[/img] [sub] [@Sickle-cell][/sub][/center] [color=cyan]"They looked pretty intact from what I saw. Didn't look too up for a conversation, though,"[/color] Robin laughed, [color=cyan]"so you might have to look elsewhere. Protectorate types tend to be kinda uptight about the whole 'law-breaking' thing."[/color] But despite her easy demeanour, Automaton suddenly seemed lost in thought. [color=cyan][i]Freedom[/i][/color]. She'd dismissed Wonderland as a bunch of crazies, and... oh who was she kidding, that had been completely right. But there was something awfully tempting about that idea, as tempting as it was terrifying. Self-determination, and unabashed selfishness with it. Robin knew she wasn't her own person at heart, really. Always the follower, flying under the radar, doing what she was told. A part in the machine - a description that was a little on the nose, but it felt true enough. A piece in the games played the likes of Whetstone and Gladius - a pawn to play a part of their choosing. To be [i]discarded[/i] in place of the important ones. Manipulated by people who spoke about honour while using the desperate as meat shields. As scapegoats. That being said, these people were as violent as they came. It just happened that Planck's words had struck on something Robin [i]knew[/i] she was missing. Whether the girl knew what she was doing or not, that was the easiest way to have Automaton dance along to your tune. Because despite her resolution to be somebody, she knew she'd been failing. The kind of liberation described... It had her hook, line, and sinker. This kid, so much younger than her, was more her own person than Robin had ever been. But Automaton wasn't a murderer, right? She'd been trying to do good. Or less bad than some, even if it didn't always work out - oh, who was she kidding, her only motivation was gathering parts. Collecting shiny metal like some kind of stab-happy magpie. She had little room to be self-righteous, just because her selfishness was a little less ruthless. That being said, Robin didn't think she was much of a killer. A thief, a fighter, and... yeah, she was certainly capable of doing enough damage to finish someone off, but if it was avoidable, she'd rather not. But if this was all about making their own choices, maybe she wouldn't have to. It didn't occur to her how naive that idea might be. Or, indeed, that an organisation such as Gladius might not take kindly to a willing defector. Concerns that might have changed her decision if they'd come to her mind, but Robin was always one for living in the moment. Going with the flow. And today, that was taking her in an unexpected direction. [color=cyan]"Don't suppose there's any space on your little freedom train? If I'm that disposable, Gladius can find some other poor sod to take my place. They're a dime a dozen around here."[/color] She paused, before smirking. [color=cyan]"Who knows? Might even have some time in my schedule for hair, boys, and ponies."[/color] It wasn't clear if treating Planck like a kid was a good idea, but Robin defaulted to treat most things as a joke. Even, apparently, mass murderers. And despite the lightness of her tone, her question was entirely serious.