Moments from My Adjustment to an Emulated Brain Inside a Prosthetic Body (2016)

Drawn for a zine that, despite opening for submissions in March, has not closed them as of this writing! Wow!

↓ Transcript
TITLE: Moments from My Adjustment to an Emulated Brain Inside a Prosthetic Body
by m. tarah henry

[0 DAYS]
(A deer, named Clover, is consulting with a dragon made of metal and plastic in a hospital bed. The dragon has an LED visor for its face, a speaker grill for a mouth, and a cable leading out of its neck.)
CLOVER: You were owned, Maddy. You were owned so hard you almost died.
DRAGON: Oh my God...

[5 DAYS]
(Clover has a backpack on, and has turned to the dragon, sitting on a couch.)
CLOVER: Want anything from the store?
DRAGON: (three-tone sequence, followed by:) This unit requires: No Additional Supplies. At this time.
CLOVER: Heh! OK, back in 20.

[9 DAYS]
(An exhausted Clover is looking at the dragon from a doorway, as the dragon dutifully pokes a broom at the dining room's ceiling.)
CLOVER: Tarah? What's... what are you...
TARAH: During my initial cleaning efforts, I had noticed several dust artifacts hanging from the ceiling. Since I no longer require sleep, I concluded that I have ample time to--

[21 DAYS]
(Clover is now sitting in a waiting room and looking up at tarah, the dragon, who has exited a counselor's office.)
CLOVER: How are your systems, cutie?
TARAH: As expected, I am functioning normally. My psychologist has requested that I keep a diary.
I have written three paragraphs of it in my head. I plan to type them out as soon as I get home.
CLOVER: Aw, how productive!

[34 DAYS]
(The two are leaving the house; Clover unlocks the car, tarah is locking the front door.)
CLOVER: Nice day. Think you might unfold your horns?
TARAH: I had indeed considered it. However, that would require us to stop and rest, since I refuse to charge while walking.
Additionally, the cloud cover this afternoon is supposed to be fucking garbage.

[38 DAYS]
(tarah is reaching into their unbuttoned shirt)
TARAH: Please climb on. Please climb on. Please climb on.

(tarah has pulled their hand out, revealing a spider on the tip of their finger. They look at the spider, frustrated.)
TARAH: Okay. Thank you.

[50 DAYS]
(tarah is at a convenience store's checkout counter, with two bottles on it: a bottle of soda and an alcoholic beverage. The clerk shows tarah the ID presented to him.)
CLERK: You aren't this person.
TARAH: Oh, my apologies. I am that person, I simply left my new identification at home.

(the clerk hands tarah their ID)
CLERK: All right, "Madeline", go and get it. I'll keep these here.
TARAH: I will. Thank you.

[66 DAYS]
(a woman and her child are walking down the street. the child has turned to point at tarah.)
CHILD: Mom, look! It's a robot!
WOMAN: It's a person, sweetie. Please don't point.

[79 DAYS]
(Clover is passing by the couch seen previously, looking at an offscreen TV. tarah is laying on the couch, slumped, holding a PS4 controller. They have a glove on their hand, and are shuffling it around inside a bag of tortilla chips.)
CLOVER: How's the tasting unit treating you?
What is this, Final Fantasy?
TARAH: Six. It's familiar.

[83 DAYS]
(Clover and tarah are laying in bed. tarah is acting as clover's big spoon; their visor is in low-light mode.)
TARAH: Are you sure you're OK with all this?
CLOVER: Without a doubt.

(tarah buries their snout into the back of Clover's neck, looking frustrated. Clover is turning back to address them.)
TARAH: And you will not... leave me behind?
CLOVER: What? What do you mean?
TARAH: I don't know...

[92 DAYS]
(tarah is video-chatting on their desktop PC with moult, a cat from the UK.)
TARAH: Oh, I do not mind at all. It is in storage, I believe.
In a permanent coma state, since it cannot access what they copied to my memory.
It's apparently all paid for, so.
MOULT: Interesting. Do they plan to use it, somehow?
Are they hoping they can put you back inside it?

(tarah is bemused)
TARAH: Goodness, I would certainly hope not.
Can you imagine what a waste of effort that would be?