Brewing in his chair, Orphansmith carefully considered the content to be placed in his author bio. Every thought, opinion and word was carefully weighed, tasted and scrutinized for maximum readability. How had he come to this? Writing an author's bio on a webpage in a section he was sure no one would read. Normally he wouldn't bother with such a thing, but the bio offered him an opportunity to spill words in a fun way. A guilty pleasure. Literary mastication. He was reveling in the act. Of course he would have to cover the robot wars. Not the actual robot wars you've heard of, no the secret war that happened only three years prior. It was there that he befriended an erstwhile android, and while eventually he had to kill Claxo, before he passed the droid whispered something important in his ear, 'I always wanted to be, a writer', he sputtered. The words half-chocked on blood and oil, crackling as the laser wound poured his vitals onto the dirty subway floor. Orphansmith only had one option, and that was to do what Claxo was unable to do. The last wish of a dying friend, had kind of a pretentious weight to it, and Orphansmith championed the heft. Of course, Orphansmith was slow to start and keep the promise to his friend, but tumblr seemed like the perfect tool, and excuse to engage in the RPG he kept putting off. People would get haughty, and jeer the thought. Most 'humans' despise the notion of tumblr, but then again, most writers have never had to kill their best friend.