Simulacra: Aurelianus' Workshop

Author: lilian_cho
Rating: PG-13 so far
Word count: 100-word drabbles and short snippets
WARNING: For my own ease of reading, all drabbles and snippets 150 words and under will not be under an LJ-cut. The writing will be slightly erotic in nature; there would most likely be some m/m or m/f development ahead.

A/N: The idea for this 'verse was conceived when I was answering mind_spark's Gothic Horror Challenge prompts "petal" and "ashes."

I've always liked the idea of simulacra and realized that Hey, I could conceivably write an infinite number of simulacra stories, all tied to Aurelianus, this mad scientist wizard who is the authority in simulacra. The drabbles will serve as jumping points to full-blown short stories in the future. World-building will probably remain in my paper-and-ink notebook for now.

This DW will be updated as I write more drabbles, snippets and/or short stories in this 'verse.

Scroll down, and enjoy! (Everything is posted reverse chronologically for easy reading)

“You must’ve impressed them to get outfitted with a new limb and eye,” Aurelianus said. Military simulacra didn’t get funerals; their suicide missions inevitably ended in scattered body parts.

“I survived an explosion, that’s all,” the simulacrum sat half-naked, mangled eye and charred, twisted limb exposed.

“Wouldn’t want the nation’s hope looking like mangled bird carcass.” Aurelianus pinched and prodded, impressed by the workmanship. “They authorized three hundred riah for sedatives and six thousand for your right arm and eye.”

His patient clutched at the threadbare cloth covering his lap.

“Blue costs five hundred extra, so brown eye it is.”

“What happened to your hair?”

The reporter’s long hair, usually gathered in a bun or tangled with her camera strap, now barely reached her chin.

Artwing smiled ruefully at Aurelianus. “Covered a fire and realized long hair is impractical.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t burn more than your hair.”

She grinned. “What, no insults to my intelligence for taking foolhardy risks?”

“You’re not an idiot, just insane,” Aurelianus said dryly.

“Anyway, I thought you might have a use for this.” She handed him a pouch.

He looked inside and fingered the glossy, mahogany lock. Beautiful.

“Consider it a favor.”

“Thank you.”