Limewah's Hypnovember 2025
Day 23 - Super-Drone (AshKelling)

"I'm still in here. You haven't broken me yet."
…is what Angelica wanted to say. But she was still not in control.

HS-03 sat motionless in the dressing room chair. The snow leopard drone's hands were resting on her thighs. She stared straight forward at herself in the mirror, her vision always tinted by magenta. She was dressed in a very tight black bodysuit, accented with pink stripes along the limbs, and with a decal for her designation on the throat of the suit.
The visor she wore endlessly pulsed with rings and spirals of white and pink, never staying one shape for long. The novelty, the constant change, kept the mind focused.
Sometimes, her mind was completely blank, the only thing within it being the curl and strobe of the spirals behind her visor.
Right now, though, the consciousness inside HS-03 was awake. Not enough to be able to move, to affect any change. The spirals straightjacketed her, kept her from reaching her body, from even moving a claw.
It never felt like restraints - more like a hug from a huge old friend, the kind of hug where you're hoisted into the air, at the mercy of gravity but secure in those arms.
The pressure of the visor on HS-03's face reminded her of pressure of another sort. That of a thick, fuzzy paw, pressed down hard. Squishing her into the floor, stamping the texture of it into her face, into her mind, every fibre and molecule of her.
That was before the visor. But it was the moment that she became a Drone. The moment her will had been finally stamped out, after what had felt like days of slow erosion through pink and magenta lights, strobing through her mind, puppeting her, attacking her mind…
The process had really been barely a few hours. But HS-03 did not time-keep. Drones did not time-keep. They lived in the moment, in a relaxed yet alert state. 

There was a knock at the door to the dressing room.
"Angelica~! You in there, babe?"
A mental switch flicked, activated by the voice. HS-03 instantly slipped into performance mode, a pantomime of the cat she used to be. The spiralling visor switched off and opened up, resembling a pair of futuristic goggles to match the black and pink bodysuit she wore, and she slouched in her chair, casually.
She flicked her brown hair back over her shoulder, and smiled as the door opened.
It was the man who still believed himself to be her manager. He was leaning in the doorway dressed with the comfort of someone who was not planning to appear on stage, or in any photos at all. His claws were painted, and he was wearing mascara, though…
He was staring at her with wide eyes, roving up and down the tight bodysuit. Not to ogle, but to appraise. 

"How're you doing?" the polecat was scrawny, but sweet. He fiddled nervously with his fingertips. "Nice outfit… wish you'd run it by me before you changed your whole look, but you know what, I'm no fashionista. It looks stunning, girl!"
"Thanks~!" HS-03 said with a smile. "I'm good to go, just doing a little meditation before I get to places. How long do I have?"
"As long as you need, darling!" the manager said. "Buuuut, technically, according to the schedule, in 15 minutes. Your opener's wrapping up their set."
Please, get help! Angelica tried to scream, from deep inside that drone space. Cancel the show! Before it's too late! If I go out there, I'll…
"Great!" A toothier smile. "I'll be ready."
No, wait, wait…!
HS-03 simply kept smiling, not a hint of the turmoil visible.
The manager blew her a kiss, then slid away, closing the door.

The smile dropped from HS-03's face. The visor screen slid back into view. Pink and white pulsed and thrummed, and she returned to her neutral posture.
There was no need to warm up her voice, or go over her lyrics.
If she were to open her mouth, Angelica might try to shout, to rail… but she wouldn't succeed.
The next words that would come from her throat, barring any small talk with crew, would be sung with 'Angelica's powerful, stadium filling voice.

HS-03 had one song to sing, and one alone. 
Miss Zaide would take things from there.

Speaking of which.
She was there. No knocking. No apparent entry. The lynx was simply behind her, her paws resting on her drone's shoulders as they looked at each other's reflections.
"How're you doing, drone?" Zaide asked, a wide, wicked grin on her face. She rested her elbow on HS-03's shoulder, her head resting on top of the snow leopard's.
Zaide did not use pet names or terms of endearment. The casual greeting in itself was basically a useless formality. Drones did not 'Do' in that sense, they did not feel. They 'Did' in the sense of carrying out Zaide's commands, but little else than that.

"I'm still in here. You haven't broken me yet."
…is what Angelica wanted to say. But she was still not in control.
"HS-03 is prepared, Miss Zaide," HS-03 said, her affect flat, her head still facing forward.
Zaide let out a low moan that turned into a full-on cackle. "I love when you go monotone on me… you've got such a lovely voice. And such a lovely personality to go with it… and yet, you only use it when you're ordered to."
"You're not going to get away with this…"
…Angelica hoped she wouldn't have said something that clichéd, were she able to. But it was all that was coming to mind.
It had been getting harder and harder to think of comebacks, of retorts and counters… how many battles of wits had she won with Zaide in her head so far?
Too many.
Or none at all.
It was meaningless, either way. She couldn't claw her way out of this conditioning. The slopes were too smooth to climb.

The fatigue of despair wrapped around her like a thick, damp blanket. It pressed down on her. It made her feel dazed, sleepy, sluggish. Maybe it was time for her to slip back into the darkness, to sink into a place where she couldn't see what her body was forced to do. 
The spirals were still quite pretty, when she drew her attention to them.
They did help her rest.
They did make it easier for her to give in to slumber.
There was a pleasure that came with submission. Like a trained pet's reward for obedience.
…Though she could hardly be called a pet. A puppet at best.
Angelica's 'eyes' began to close, a dark vignette starting to encroach on her vision. The aperture of consciousness grew smaller, smaller before her eyes…

"Angelica!"
A voice - young, masculine, very familiar - pulled her out of the stupor. She wanted to turn and look. But she couldn't. She just stared at the mirror. 
Zaide, on the other hand, did look, a rare expression of mild shock crossing her face.
"Angelica, I've come to…"
Zaide smiled, wiggling her black-gloved fingers.
"…Oh fuck," the voice said.
"Hey youuu~!" Zaide said. "I was wondering when I'd see you again after you slipped your collar…"
That was Ash. He'd come to rescue her…
…And had expected her to be alone.

A sudden burst of electric blue lanced past the back of HS-03's head. Angelica watched Zaide fly out of view, away from the door. A crash and a grunt, and a low moan.
A brief holographic flicker of the true Zaide, lurking in the shadows, waved at HS-03's reflection before vanishing - for the moment.
Angelica's 'heart' sank.
HS-03 did not move, did not even react.
She had not been programmed to slip into 'Angelica' mode with anyone aside from Angelica's 'manager' and crew.

The fake Zaide, the illusory one, groaned in a crumpled heap on the floor 
"Heh. Easier than I thought it was gonna be," Ash murmured to himself.
"NO! It's a trap! I'm not myself!"
No dice.
The brown-haired leopard finally appeared, his paws resting on Angelica's shoulders. Blue domino mask, crackling rubber gloves, wide innocent eyes… 
"Run away! Ash! ASH!"
Angelica felt like she was screaming. But none of it reached him. She could only watch helplessly.
"Let's get this thing off'a you," he said, reaching for the visor on the snow leopard's face "And get you out of here before-"

HS-03's movements were automatic. 
Ash yelped as both his wrists were grabbed - far more strength and pressure than Angelica might have exerted. HS-03 finally turned her head towards him, and rose.
Then she opened her mouth, and began to sing.
It almost sounded improvised. The melody rose and fell, sometimes smooth, sometimes arpeggio. One sound seemed to layer into the next - a solo two-part harmony, then a three part, then a five part. 
Ash hung in place, his face widened with shock, his body shuddering as the soundwaves buffeted him.
Angelica watched as the light faded from Ash's eyes - or rather, was replaced with a pink glow. 

The sound resonated through HS-03's body. The soul it once belonged to felt the same resonance. Not a full-body massage, a full-being massage. An earthquake through her psyche.
She was hearing her voice from outside her body. What she must have sounded like to everyone else. Not just inside her head, not from a recording… her actual echo, the voice of the artist.

Angelica gave herself to the melody, let herself be swept up in it.
She found her own voice, her internal one, joining in. It merged into the drone's song. It poured over the leopard. His body slackened. His wrists dangled, his feet scraped against the floor. He'd have fallen into a crumpled heap if not for HS-03's vice grip.
He sighed, his eyes rolling up into his head as the pink glow spread from his pupils, to his irises, to fill his eyes entirely. 
HS-03 stopped singing. But the resonance remained in the air, like the lingering sound of a fork against a champagne flute.
HS-03 bent forward, draping the dazed leopard on the floor. 
"Wh….what…" Ash mumbled, still half-fighting the spell it seemed.

Mistress Zaide, having dropped her illusion, stepped back into view. She leant on HS-03's shoulder. 
Angelica could sometimes perceive scent. Especially when she wasn't thinking as hard.
Zaide smelled… wonderful.

"Sloppy, HS-06," Zaide tutted. "Really sloppy. If you were going to try and rescue your friend, you kind of missed the boat. But hey, it's good to have you back."
"Nngh… Wh…?" 
Angelica knew it was too late for Ash. He probably felt as good as she did, at least… 
What would it be like for him, when HS-06 was in control of his body again? Did he have any lucid moments? Did he get angry or try and fight back?
…Did he enjoy sliding back into darkness, giving up again?
"HS-03, would you mind~?"
HS-03 was handed a visor. It dangled from her fingers by the strap. With one efficient motion, she put it onto the dazed leopard, and it blazed to life with a stream of gradient pink.
The change was instant. HS-06 fixed his slumped posture in an instant, and came to standing without even using his hands. 

"HS-06 is ready for service, Miss Zaide," he said, staring right at(or through) HS-03.
"Good stuff~!" Zaide pulled the two drones into a mockery of a group hug - like a girl playing with two big dolls. She then drew her attention to HS-03, practically pushing HS-06 out of the way. Her big lynx paws rested on the snow leopard's shoulders once again, making biscuits against the soft, latex-clad flesh. "Okay, my little artist. I need to get this one's suit re-fitted… I'll try and make it back in time for your show, okay?"
"Yes, Miss Zaide," Angelica sighed.
…Oh, she'd said it along with the drone. How funny…
She slipped off to sleep.

HS-03 barely heard the applause and screams of the thousands who had gathered to see her. All of them were excited to see their idol… 
HS-03 pantomimed her role, waving and crying out to her audience, acting as though Angelica was soaking up all their love and excitement…
None of it meant anything to HS-03. The one who could have reacted to it had gone back to sleep, fully.
HS-03 was no idol. She was an instrument. The instrument was conducted by her unseen player, and filled the stadium with her Mistress' original composition.
They would know the melody within the first minute, and would be singing along with full throat by the second.