indeed. first up, dirk.

as someone with like, relevant work experience regarding skin/silicone... reading the detailing of his degradation and transformation set my head spinning. and it all clicked: so much of the machined man fantasy (both with fantasizer as the machine and the... machinated upon) straddles the line of the upgrading of the flesh and the attached limitations. the body is strong as steel, and just as heavy. a mind running a million miles a minute, yet vulnerable to an errant glitch. botulinum toxin stops the hands of time and robs you of expression. dirk, the master roboticist and god enhancing himself to action figure perfection, can't (or doesn't want to) prevent the technorganic equivalent of full-body graft stick drift. the way this dichotomy is portrayed upon him, his form overtaken by rebellious lipomas on one half and twisting unto itself on the other, kinda sorta raised the bar for the myriad of hypothetical robobeaus. it's a design that really reckons with what it means to get wrecked on. thee secret sexy cyborg man.