Oc Mal Pratchett - Blog Posts

(Hi hi herosplatling-replica is me!I'm trying my darndest to be less shy!!! o7)

I'm really curious about mal's fashion sense, and if that reflects at all in maldroid on quieter night shifts! Additionally can mal feel it when people touch their robot body when it's night? I've got a lot of questions but I'll start w the pressing ones hehehe

Hello! Thanks for reaching out! I know it’s hard sometimes but I love your stuff! Nice profile pic btw.

Anyway, Mal’s fashion is a little all over the place. They love comfortable clothes. Sweatpants and t-shirts are their go-to. They’re down to try anything on though, and get especially adventurous when in their robot body. Being AMAB, they’re usually too nervous of what people might think of them to dress in feminine outfits. As much as they dislike being stuck in the robot half the time, they do like how freeing it is that they can try anything on with no reservations. The only stipulation is that they can’t cover their chest monitor while helping a patient, as that’s where their vitals are displayed. They have a lot of body dysmorphia as a robot, but finally being able to put some clothes on has helped their self esteem a little. They also like to do cosplays and dress ups with the kids.

The silicone and rubber guards around their limbs are detachable, which allows for an easier fit, but leaves more delicate wiring and machinery exposed. Their outsides are waterproof, but their insides sure aren’t.

As for what they can feel, Maldroid 1.0 is limited to sight and sound. Maldroid 2.0 has sight, sound, heartbeat detection, heat vision, night vision, and later on rudimentary sensors for smell, temperature, and touch. Once Ian found out about Mal’s condition he wanted to make sure they were as comfortable as possible. Before it felt like they were floating in nothing. Sensory deprivation. Now though? It’s not perfect, but it’s better.

| I Hope They Don’t Notice | How Do I Hide This? |

Every case of Connectifia Abortus is unique. No two victims share the exact same set of symptoms. It almost feels personalized. Malicious.

Middlesea Hospital’s new Intern, despite being unable to connect to anyone in any meaningfully human way, has fully immersed themself in their work. The patients are of their utmost priority, and their coworkers aren’t far behind. Every clash with Connectifia leads to side effects that only grow stronger with time, but does that matter when there’s patients to treat? Lives to save? Any good person would keep on pushing. Besides, every moment in Middlesea is a moment where they mean something. After all, they’re the only one who can do what they do.

Does it shock anyone, then, when even their dreams feel like waking nightmares? Every fiber of their being is inseparable from their work. They are the perfect machine. They do not get to rest. Every night they jolt to life strapped with wires into a metal cage, and they absolutely cannot let anybody know.

TLDR my Intern inverts the “robot slowly becoming more human” trope. Connectifia has permanently intwined them with the Rhythm Doctor Program, and it’ll likely only keep getting worse. When trapped in the machine, there is no video feed, as there is nothing to show.

RD Possession AU Intern (Aka Mal Prachett’s terrible horrible no good very bad day)

Mini Fic under the cut

It had been a couple days since the beginning of the possession epidemic. Having lost Ada yesterday, Ian had come to accept his lot in life as the final girl. The Intern had been working seemingly without sleep for days to help those afflicted with little progress. Their robotic proxy made them much more resistant to attacks than Ian, thus making them the perfect scout while Ian toiled away in the lab trying to figure just what the hell had befallen Middlesea Hospital. A knock at the door told him they were back. That, or one of the possessed was trying to trick him again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ada do a cartwheel towards the lab entrance. Apparently she could do cartwheels? Cool? He cleared his throat, attention still glued to his laptop screen. “Can you please make sure your not letting someone like Lucky in?”

“You mean Unlucky?”

“That seems like kind of a mean nickname for your tastes, Ada.”

“His face and arm and brain are broken. Pretty darn unlucky if you ask me!”

“I guess. If it is him can you at least try not to piss him off even more?”

“No promises!” Ada winked and gave her purple clown nose a little honk. At least her reality-defying slapstick powers made her a surprisingly competent guard dog. “Who’s there?~” In response, she got a series of short and long beeps. Morse code. Thankfully, Ian knew it well enough to decipher on the fly. Normally Ada wasn’t fluent at all, but the cartoon logic she was now ruled by dictated that she understood them just fine.

<Intern.>

“Intern who?”

<Query: Is there another intern at this facility?>

“Um um- Ian can you think of a pun? Well’s run dry here!” Ian had joined Ada by the door now. Something about the way the Intern was talking caused a pit of dread to form in his gut. Please God please not them too. He braced himself as the heavy metal door slid back. He was immediately flashbanged by the Intern’s entire screen being lit up in bright purple. With a small yelp he slammed the door right back shut.

“NO NO NO! ADA! How am I supposed to do this alone?!”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Ada gave her nose another honk as Ian practically melted onto the floor. It was all over. They were all screwed. Smile wavering faintly, Ada sat next to him. No sincere words would come to her, so she instead laid a hand on his shoulder. It was fun to be possessed, sure, but she didn’t need fun right now. She needed to help Ian. It was just so hard not to get distracted. Even now energy coursed through her. She wanted to get up and run laps around the building and bounce off the walls. It took every ounce of the little restraint she had left just to keep her mouth shut. After a few moments of self-imposed torture another knock came to spare her mercy. She popped right back up like a jack-in-the-box and cupped her hands together giddily. “Who is it?~”

<It is still the intern.>

“It is still the intern wh-“

“Go away.” Ian’s face was buried in his arms. His voice was muffled, hoarse, and maybe a tad bitter.

<I have succumbed to possession.> There was a pause for a response, but none was given. Soon enough, they continued. <I am unable to access my emotions. I have been reduced to pure logic. My running theory is that the entity responsible for this epidemic enjoys ironic twists of fate, as most patients assume me to be a robot upon first contact.> Ian had covered his ears by now. Ada, however, seemed to have debated whether they passed some unknown vibe check. <My alliances and goals remain intact. I can still provide aid.> With that, the door opened once more. Ada waved, her hand on the button.

“Be on your best behavior, Sparky. I’d hate to look like a clown for letting you in.” She snickered, then moved to give the Intern a lookover. Ian cowered, half-heartedly accepting his incoming tragic fate. He’d really thought they’d be immune. Did the possession really get them through internet connection? This thing could take over the entire world if it wanted. His spiral was cut off by a gentle pat on the head. He flinched as Ada and the Intern loomed over him. “My friend here could use a hand, or a leg I guess.” Against his better judgment, Ian’s eyes made their way down the Intern’s metal torso. Although their posture was perfectly rigid, at about where the knee would be, their left teg had been completely torn off. Wires hung loose and oil dripped slowly from the jagged wound. Next, his eyes jumped to the Intern’s extending arm. Their hand gripped the broken leg tightly. Oil covered their silicone fingers. It was almost grizzly to look at.

“Oh-Oh my God. What happened?”

<Mrs. Stevenson’s denchers are of exceptional quality. My aluminum chassis were of no match.>

“Jeez- ok- I can help. You promise not to turn on me?”

<I am currently unable to lie. My alliances and goals remain intact. I can still provide aid.>

“That’s good, maybe. I don’t know. Get on the table. That has to hurt.

<I cannot feel pain.>

“I mean, yeah, but…” Ian trailed off. The screen was still glowing purple. The Intern’s camera feed hadn’t been playing at all. He had no idea what this all looked like on their side. “Can you… turn off the rhythm doctor program? Maybe you can get some rest while I fix up your proxy.”

<Negative. I am trapped.>

“What do you- Intern are you in the robot? Did the possession do this to you?!”

<Negative. It did not.>

“Intern, what does that mean?”

<Low power.>

“Intern?! What do you mean by trapped?!”

<Entering sleep mode.>

“Intern!” The robotic body siezed and stiffened. The screen slowly flashed the black outline of a low battery symbol. Mouth agape, Ian looked to Ada, then back at the body. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but speak up.

“Hmm. Do they take double As?” In response, Ian slammed his head on the metal table. He really shouldn’t have gone to med school.

Super last second Christmas drawing with the Handtern, featuring @pokeblog123 and @lolatulips interns Mal and Marie! I wanted to draw more holiday RD stuff but unfortunately I’ve been super busy with gift art for people 😅. Hope y’all have a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays though!

Cranked this out for @pokeblog123 and @nightmun just in time for Christmas! Including of course Mal Pratchett and The Handtern respectively. Enjoy the Middlesea Hospital Christmas Party y'all!

Marie is there in spirits, so to speak.