[ "Fucked up face" is a dramatic understatement. DiMA is a mess of wires and components, his external structure worn away in most places. His face is doing better than most of him, honestly -- the hand he reels back from Ephemera's shoulder is more or less skeletal, or whatever skeletal means for a robot. Just a thin metal framework resembling bones.
Despite the damaged plastic skin, the synth manages to look deeply concerned as the man on the ground coughs, in obvious pain. Which of course has him checking for where he's hurt... ]
...oh dear. You're quite injured.
[ DiMA glances back up at the brontos, whose ire they haven't drawn yet. Luckily. He seems to be thinking for a moment, reassessing. ]
I believe it would still be best to evacuate. Can I assist you?
no subject
Despite the damaged plastic skin, the synth manages to look deeply concerned as the man on the ground coughs, in obvious pain. Which of course has him checking for where he's hurt... ]
...oh dear. You're quite injured.
[ DiMA glances back up at the brontos, whose ire they haven't drawn yet. Luckily. He seems to be thinking for a moment, reassessing. ]
I believe it would still be best to evacuate. Can I assist you?