FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"For the last time, Giselle, the answer is no!" Drom clomped his way into the engineering bay, not even bothering to keep his voice down. He and Giselle were always the first ones into the shop. "I'm not letting you do any mechanization work on me!"

"Why not?" the rat jogged to keep up with him, her short legs having to work extra hard to keep up with the donkey's long strides. "You've talked about mechanization so many times! You've talked about all the ways a blacksmith could use enhancements!"

Drom snorted, then finally rounded on her. The bulky donkey stamped a large hoof on the floor grating. "It's different because that was just talk, and this is... This is reality! Besides, it's weird. I actually know you. I don't want you messing around with nanobots or modifications on me."

"Alright, alright." Giselle let out a very exaggerated, resigned sigh. "I get it. Oh, I got one of my assistants to grab us some coffee." She nodded to a pair of steaming mugs sitting on one of the tables in the centre of the large workshop. She led the way over to them as Drom shook his head.

"You make your assistants fetch you coffee? Before you even start work?"

"Why wouldn't I? She makes some coffee, leaves a cup out for me, then goes back to bed for an hour." She held a mug out to him, and he grabbed it in a thickly calloused hand.

"You're terrible."

"Am not."

He rolled his eyes, then took a long swig from his mug. The first of the hot liquid was already sliding down his throat before he realized that the taste was wrong. There wasn't the bitterness of the workshop's coffee; this was a sharper taste that made his mouth and throat tingle.

His snout wrinkled and his eyes widened. He began to sputter, and was about to pull the mug away when Giselle stepped in close to him. She reached up, and casually pressed a finger against the bottom of the mug, forcing more of the liquid down Drom's throat. He almost choked, but the donkey just managed to make his throat work. He swallowed on instinct, not wanting the hot liquid to get everywhere. That odd tingling slipped deeper and deeper, until it was a solid pit of giddy, not quite uncomfortable energy in his gut. The rat kept up a constant pressure, tipping the cup further and further until at last Drom had gulped down the last of it.

She stepped back, and Drom actually dropped the mug. It shattered on the workshop floor, the sound ringing in the mostly empty engineering bay. For his part, the donkey just stared at Giselle and sputtered, too stunned to form words.

"Okay," she acknowledged, and nodded. "I am terrible."

"What the hell was that!?"

"Nanopaste."

Drom blinked. "Oh fuck you."

"Well you've drunk it now! Might as well--"

"No, no." Drom turned and started staggering towards the section of the workshop dedicated to his personal forge. He yanked open his locker on the way, ignoring the rat's protests.

"Stop being such a wuss!"

"It's not about being a wuss, it's about it being weird!"

"But just think abou--"

"No!" The blacksmith grabbed his safety glasses, and slapped them onto his face as he rounded on her. "You're lucky that I don't..." His voice trailed off as he stared down at her. She was grinning a bit too wide, and the entire world was tinged a bit too... green? He took a deep breath. "These aren't my glasses, are they?"

"They are now."

"Oh for fu-" His voice cut out into a strangled yelp as the skin along his face, wherever the glasses were touching, heated up. He staggered, and had to grab onto his locker to remain standing. It wasn't painful. No, quite the opposite. Blinding pleasure was searing past his brown fur and into his skin as the lenses grew gradually more opaque. Then, all at once, they cleared again, with only the slightest hint of green tinging his vision.

The donkey was panting, still not standing quite right. He reached his free hand up to his face, and he stammered as his fingers brushed over smooth, hard plexiglass. He could even see his hooftips brushing over his vision, but there was none of the irritation of being poked in the eye.

"See?" Giselle's voice drew Drom's attention back to her. She was still beaming at her, but now he could see that malevolent edge to it. "Improving already. Now, follow me."

He made to respond, but before he could, symbols scrolled across his vision, bright and ghostly. He would have blinked if he still had the ability; they were too fast for him to make anything out. That said, he felt an odd tingling in the back of his head. He hesitated for a long moment, and then he stepped to follow Giselle. He was surprised by this at first, and then concerned.

"Uh, Giselle?"

"Yes dear?"

"I... don't want to follow you."

"I know."

"So why am I?"

"Well, you don't have any programming yet. Right now, the nanopaste will obey any simple orders I give."

"Programming!?"

"Oh do be quiet, dear."

Text flashed across his vision. He made to reply, but suddenly found that he didn't want to. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears as he followed Giselle into the synth lab.

"Strip down and step into the bay for me." More symbols flashed across his vision, and suddenly his hands were reaching to the zip on his coveralls. She kept speaking as she made her way over to a computer terminal. "No need to be self-conscious. I am a professional."

A professional with no respect for professional standards, he thought to himself. Still, he couldn't voice that comment any more than he could stop himself from kicking off the rest of his clothes. He felt very bare like that, and he briefly wondered how long it would be until any of their coworkers showed up. He stepped forward into the narrow marked off area Giselle used for all her modifications. He stood still there, bared and surrounded by scanners and countless mechanical arms.

Giselle tapped away at her terminal for a few more moments, and then made a satisfied noise. "There. Let's see what we're dealing with." She hit a button, and the scanners all fired up at once. A crisscrossing mesh of red light flashed to life, and it passed over the donkey in a single sweep. At the same time, several large monitors around the lab flashed to life. There were several diagrams, showing detailed diagrams of his skeleton, nervous system, and musculature. The one that made him shiver was the screen showing an unaltered view of his body. On this one, he could see the opaque green lenses that had covered the space where his eyes ought to be. They flowed seamlessly into his flesh and fur; they didn't look out of place at all.

"First of all, let's see about some plating... Nothing too thick, but if you're going to be handling hot metal all day..."

Giselle kept murmuring, and she began hitting keys. A pale light flashed through the bay. As it hit Drom, that tingling sensation from before returned tenfold. He couldn't bite back a low gasp as pleasured tingling broke out deep in his guts, before spreading out towards his skin. The arms whirred to life around him, sliding away into the wall. They returned moments later, each one carrying a thin, flexible sheet of plating. The undersides of the sheets glowed with live circuits, and the glow only grew stronger as the first plate was brought in towards his chest. His breathing grew heavier as the tingling in his pectorals grew stronger with each inch the plate approached. Just before it pressed against him, Drom could just make out a matching glow rising off of his skin through his fur. Then, the mechanical arm pressed the cool metal against him, and his chest came alight with sensation. He writhed in place, staring down as the plate molded itself perfectly against his pectorals, even creasing down the middle to press against his sternum. He could feel the nanopaste joining it to him, adjusting the flesh beneath to support the new weight.

Before he'd even had the time to adjust to that feeling the next set of arms brought another plate down to press in just beneath the first plate, and then another, and another. Each time, there was that pleasurable heat and the glow of new circuitry coming to life.

By the time a pair of mechanical arms grabbed his wrists, he was too overwhelmed with sensation to resist. They lifted his arms slowly, almost gently above his head. More arms brought in smaller, thinner sheets of plating, and began adding them to his sides. These brought new jolts as Drom's new circuitry worked itself deeper, and his breathing got heavier. The plating on his side stretched more easily with his breaths and movements.

As more plates were added, though, he started feeling the strain of the weight. His legs were just beginning to bend when he heard Giselle's casual voice, still speaking to herself. "Going to need more structural support to hold all of that..." Tap tap tap... "Might as well provide some extra power for the hammer impacts..." Tap tap tap...

The arms kept adding more long plates to his sides and front, even beginning to reach over his slight potbelly. At the same time, more arms emerged from the walls, these ones carrying heavier looking metal tubing. The arms moved down, and then pressed against his calves. The sharp pleasure was intense enough to override the simple programming Giselle had given him, and he let out a startled bray as tingles broke out across his calves. There was an odd sensation as his skin shifted against it, sculpting itself into wires and docks that would support the pneumatic pistons grafting into him. He sucked in a breath instinctively as the piston filled with air, stretching his legs back until he was standing straight again.

No sooner had he stood up than the arms brought over large, steel plates to lie over the exposed circuitry along his legs. His body accepted them eagerly, the nanopaste running through his system and making sure that everything adapted properly. A flash of coding across his lenses prompted him to lift a hoof, testing the strength of the pistons in his powerful legs. At the same time, another arm slipped a hollow, perfectly hoof-shaped attachment into place beneath him. He slid his hoof into it, sealing it in a shell of tough steel and a carefully padded, rubbery underside. He repeated the process with the other foot, not even resisting. The overstimulation was making it hard to keep up.

"Now let's see about giving you a bit more direct control over those..." Tap tap tap.

Giselle's voice felt distant at this point, but it was still a surprise to hear. He glanced over at the rat, but she was too focused on her screen to pay much attention to him. Besides, his attention was drawn away a moment later when something glowing and green moved in his peripheral vision. He glanced over, and stared at a long, thin series of metal links that were being carried towards him by two mechanical arms. The individual links were joined by pinpoints of bright green light, all along the length.

As he was staring, he didn't notice the extra arm sneaking up behind him until it grabbed onto the tufted tip of his tail. Drom glanced over his shoulder in surprise, but the arm wasn't being rough. It just pulled his tail out taut and held it there. He was confused until the other two arms brought those joined links over, and laid the first link carefully over the tip of his tail, before carefully beginning to drape it up and over his spine.

Suddenly understanding, Drom panicked. All of the other changes had been one thing, but this? This was-- An arm came up from beneath him and wrapped partway about his throat. It wasn't enough to cut off air, but it was just enough to hold his head steady. Drom went to struggle, but more words flashed across those lenses, making him freeze in place.

"Don't worry, dear." Giselle actually glanced over at the frozen donkey, watching as the arms carefully arranged the cerebral link over Drom's spine. The links got slightly thicker as they moved up and covered his mohawk-like mane. They moved up and up, over the back of his head, and came to a stop just shy of his forehead. "This is the scary part, but trust me. You're going to love this."

Drom wanted very, very badly to tell her that trust was the last thing he felt towards her at the moment. He was already thinking of all of the vile things he would say to her once he got out of this.

Giselle reached forward, and hit one button. Tap.

All of the thoughts sizzled out of Drom's mind as the cerebral link pressed down, and the flesh all up from the tip of Drom's tail to his forehead all adjusted to accommodate it. Sensation flooded up along the path to overwhelm any and all thought, and for a few moments the mechanical additions to Drom's body all tensed and flexed as they lit up with sensation. The skin surrounding the cerebral link all twisted and shifted into a thin layer of metal, better designed to support the thick bunches of cable running up his spine.

More arms came in, these ones carrying a few larger metal plates around towards the remaining exposed skin on his back on either side of the link. Drom barely even noticed; he was just staring straight ahead at the monitors now, his powerful legs automatically supporting his weight. His vision went first to the monitor displaying a plain view of his body. From that front view, he could see that most of his visible body was hard, cool metal. If he had to guess, he would say it was high-carbon steel from the polished sheen. The only untouched parts of him were his arms, hanging at his sides, and everything from his collarbones up. Those green lenses stood out from his otherwise organic face, glowing softly.

Drom's back arched and he gasped as the metal came into contact with his back. This drew his visors over to one of the other screens, this one showing various other views of his body, including heat signatures, x-rays, and a diagram of his nervous system. The diagrams shifted as he watched, with changes spreading out from the neural network on his back throughout the rest of his torso. He watched heat signatures shift into a more regular, organized pattern, and erratic nerve clusters reorganize into circuitry. He could feel it, too; a prickling, pleasurable sensation washing through him. There was a horrifying moment when breath wouldn't come to him, but it passed quickly as his lungs shifted a powerful set of pneumatic pumps. The air flowing in and out of his mouth grew stronger, more regulated.

"Now, I've been holding onto this for a while, just for you." Giselle's voice drew Drom's attention back over to her. The rat was still staring at her terminal, a slightly manic look on her face as she tapped away. All the overstimulation was making it difficult for Drom to keep up. By the time he managed to turn his head back towards the sound of those mechanical arms approaching, they were already almost upon him. There were a number of smaller arms carrying more of the smaller metal plates, but what caught his eye was the heavy construction being carried by four separate arms. He could see a pair of small but powerful pneumatic pistons on either side of it, hooked up to a thick wheel. The wheel, in turn, was attached to a long, thick bar of iron that jutted down.

Drom's sluggish mind took a moment to process what he was seeing. Then, he spoke, the donkey's voice oddly measured and a bit hollow. "That's a clutch."

"It is." Giselle's voice was tremulous with excitement.

"That's a clutch hooked up to a hammer."

"Which makes it...?"

"A power hammer. That's a pneumatic power hammer."

"You bet your metal ass it's a power hammer."

Drom had just enough time to wonder how long Giselle had been plotting this before she hit a key, and the arms all came in at once. The metal plates were laid in against his biceps first, lighting up sensation all along the mechanizing surface. That feeling was soon overwhelmed, though, as the arms pressed the power hammer against his forearm. As the clutch pressed against his elbow and the hammer laid over his wrist, he threw his head back, and his mouth dropped open.

The sensation was incredible. It was like every muscle from his elbow down was tensing all at once. The other mechanical arms came down with smaller, more detailed bits of iron plating, and began carefully using them to reinforce the hammer. All the while, Drom could feel all those muscles in his right arm growing more and more tense, coiling with ever more power. The hammer, which had at first been so heavy that Drom had felt it pulling him to one side, was beginning to feel more comfortable. The weight was still there, but his entire arm was gaining enough power to support it.

Then, all at once, as Drom breathed in, he felt air circulating through his pneumatic systems until it reached his arm. He actually stammered, feeling the pistons along his arm filling. It was like a switch had gone off in his brain; where before there had just been added weight, now there was potential and power. He stared down at the appendage, and turned his arm carefully. This brought its own surprise; while he'd been so focused on the hammer, he hadn't noticed how the rest of his arm was changing. A powerful locking hinge made up his elbow, now, allowing him to pivot his hammer easily into position. He still had a hand, just beneath the actual striking surface of the hammer. As he focused on the metal hand, though, it carefully folded down and out of the way, leaving him with the hammer unobstructed.

"So." Giselle's voice drew his attention back towards her. To Drom's surprise, she had stepped away from her terminal, and was standing just in front of him. She looked smaller, somehow. That said, the rat still looked every bit as smug and malicious as she looked up at the powerful donkey. "At this point, you're almost entirely synthetic. That said, I've left most of your head and brain intact. If you choose, we can be done here.

"If we continue, though... that's it. We go all the way. Fully synthetic, nothing organic remaining. I'll even convert your brain into a computer."

Drom was sure he would have been panting if the pumps in his chest weren't regulating his breathing so perfectly. He wished he could communicate more of his unease when he spoke, but his voice was forced to be even. "What happens if we do that?"

He didn't miss the way her grin grew when she saw he was considering it. "Oh, many things. I can install all sorts of clever applications onto you. Allow you to call up schematics directly to your lenses, let you identify metal compositions and measure lengths and heat immediately by sight. Countless things. In exchange, though... well. Your thoughts, your senses, everything will change. At your core, you'll be a piece of equipment. You'll be much more than that besides, but you'll have your designated purpose. An industrial machine."

Drom met her gaze. Giselle was excited. He knew she was. For his part, Drom was terrified. Everything she was saying was insanity, absolute insanity. It was the sort of thing that people had nightmares about. Even if his body felt... well, electric. Like it was full of strength and power, more than he'd ever understood he could feel. The tension of the compressed air in the pneumatic pistons in his hammer was like lightning, waiting to roar out. His legs were stable beneath him, and the cool surface of his metallic skin glinted with potential.

That said, if he went ahead and just used it like this... true, the neural link was giving his mind control, but he knew that there was only so much that a messy, organic mind could do. He wasn't sure if it was him or the nanopaste still working through his system that fed him his next thought: Imagine what I could do, fully optimized...

"Do it."

Before Drom could be surprised at his own words, Giselle had stepped back over to her terminal, that worm tail of hers coiling and uncoiling behind her. "I knew you'd say that. Just as a warning; this will be intense."

She hit a button, and Drom's entire head became alight with sensation. He let his neck tilt back, his mouth hanging open and his voice jumping from his throat in a yelp. He could see and hear arms coming in towards him, carrying the last of his new skin. He couldn't focus on that, though. He could feel the changes slipping down through his skull, and then his thoughts were growing confused as images flashed across his lenses, quickly growing opaque and green. It took him a moment to identify the images as memories; all of his memories, flashing by faster than he could ever possibly keep up. Each one was broken down into component parts, and then filed away on his archive.

Archive? Drom didn't have a--

Model: FD-1.0

His powerful body shuddered as the plates pressed against him, sealing him in. At the same time, he felt heat and pressure against his chest. It wasn't painful; his brain simply identified the sensations, just to the left of his sternum. He didn't need to see to know his model number had just been printed there.

Designation: Industrial - Fabrication

Of course it was. That was what he was built fo-- No, not built, he'd been... No, he realized. Built. He had been built for industrial purposes. That was him.

Previous programming re: Blacksmithing detected

That wasn't programming, that was years of training and experience... Which had just been converted into lines of code and programming. And really, wasn't that all it had ever been to start with?

Begining software update

Information burned into him, carried by electricity directly to the silicone parts that had become his mind. At first he couldn't keep up with it; the information too much, his mind too slow. As it went, though, he found himself picking it up, one piece of information at a time, as other thoughts and concerns fled from him. Countless equations for determining the exact time a given thickness of material required before reaching forging, welding, or burning temperature. Knowledge of angles of impact and energy displacement that didn't replace the intuitive understanding he'd learned, but augmented it.

He didn't know how long he remained like that, his world nothing but the green glow of his lenses and the occasional sensory input that he disregarded. It could have been seconds, or it could have been hours. Eventually, though, the flow of information stopped. For a few moments, he hung in limbo, feeling disconnected from his body but for the green glow dominating his vision.

Words flashed across his lenses. For once, he was able to process them.

FD-1.0 beginning boot sequence

Just like that, he was awake. Though maybe awake was the wrong word; 'awake' implied that he'd been asleep. No. But he was certainly more aware now.

"Drom?" The voice drew his attention over to Giselle. The rat stood back from him, her arms crossed as she eyed him up and down. "Or is that what you want to be called, now?"

The mechanized donkey regarded her, considering. A model number was inefficient, especially in the off-chance that Giselle built another copy. The name she'd used was the one that workers in the engineering bay would recognize. He inclined his head, and a synthesized voice slipped past his lips. "Drom will do."

"How are you feeling?"

"Fully functional. Is everything as intended?"

Giselle grinned at that, then turned and nodded to a monitor. "Look for yourself, robo-donk."

He followed her gaze, and saw a monitor with a full length view of him. His body was thick and bulky, all heavy plates designed to withstand intense heat and pressure. While he'd been updating, Giselle appeared to have done some work on his appearance. The steel covering him now had a softly green tinge to it. His lenses immediately fed him information: simple anodization, very little practical purpose, solely for aesthetics.

Drom let his gaze wander up, until he was looking into his own glowing green lenses. His face was a slightly simplified representation of a donkey, all cast in iron plates and circuitry. The tip of the neural link along his spine replaced his previous mohawk, completing the look.

"What do you think?"

Drom kept staring at the monitor. Then, at last, he murmured, "I think I want to work."

"Of course you do." He could hear the chuckle in her voice. "Get to it big guy."

Sensation flared up along his body, and then electricity flowed. His body began moving with casual ease that belied the number of moving pieces just beneath the surface. Drom was aware of each and every one as he strode out of the synth lab, his hooves plodding evenly towards his forge. Air flowed in through pumps in his chest, and then filled the pistons in his arm. Oh, he could not wait to try that hammer.