The Surgeon

gypsycaster

Lambertville, United States

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

Don’t let the body fool you. THAT thing isn’t human anymore….if it ever was.
They make ‘em look female to give the illusion that they’re nurturin…caring.
It’s not.
That thing couldn’t care less if you died in the street. It’ll harvest any tech and useful organs you have and sweep you into the under.
Not even a blink.
That’s why good scavangers, SMART scavengers like me, we stitch ourselves up.
No worries then.
I know if I’M on the table with a freakin hangnail and someone high up needs a nice new liver…I’m compost.
So I just avoid them like the plague…..so to speak.
Besides…under all that lush looking, shiny vinyl….all hardware. Look at those eyes…well…that eye.
There is NOTHING in there that feels for us brother.
Not a thing.
It’s just following it’s master’s voice.
Don’t even risk it man.

My Surgeon is yet another ‘necessary evil’ from my little world. Eventually everyone needs a doctor, but she’s a tool of the powers that be. Wether you live or die depends upon your usefullness versus someone powerful’s need.
Period.

My surgeon is yet another piece of graphite on paper work as well.
Again……..someday I may figure out the colour thing.

Shadowrun or Cyberpunk

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