The Vending Machine

You get a new fetish, mind-control

/me pours orange just on one of the solid material among the pile andinserts it
 
you get insane amount of tissues

/me inserts some dead peppers
 
You get some fried frozen fruits~

/me inserts insane amount of tissues and doodle on them while the machine eats them~
 
You get the consequence of a poor decision made by teenagers

/me inserts his consciousness
 
You get the same treatment with candles as hattori

/me inserts a goddamn kid
 

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A given mission, mechanical assault, manufactured devotion.
Red eyes, an upside-down form. Even the twisted shape was made to be that way.
No matter how cruel the slaughter, worse than a demon's,
or how gentle the kindness, greater than an angel's,
a machine has neither will nor madness—only code, and a few bugs.
So why, then, does it feel so unbearably sad?
eatch wrote on Lebedev's profile.