Daisy easily zipped through the city streets of New Toronto with her bag full of salvaged robot parts clinking and clanking as she took every sharp turn. Most people preferred to fly whenever traveling within the city which actually left the city streets below nearly deserted for those who enjoy getting around the old fashioned way. Daisy didn’t like flying so sue preferred to keep to the ground which was a much cheaper option for her as well. The bright city lights welcomed her back as she approached her modest apartment that was nothing more than a fairly large, abandoned car garage that was turned into a massive loft like bachelor pad for someone who like to repair stuff. She rarely need to use the door, as she used a remove attached to her helmet to open the garage door so she could drive in and park inside her apartment. While using part of her home to park her bike took up some space, it also prevented people from being tempted to steal her ride. After closing the door after parking inside, Daisy was greeted by the cozy chaos that was her haven which looking more like a repair shop than it did someone’s home. Since she liked to bring her work home with her, this was just the way the young girl liked it.

     “Hey Scraps!” she called out to her flatmate, who was a sassy black cat with a streak of white fur running under his belly. The wonders of modern technology had gifted Scraps with the ability to speak to his master via a high tech collar. Though she often wondered if that was more of a curse than a blessing to have the ability to speak with her feline companion.

     “Welcome back, oh hoarder of illicit technology.” Scraps responded from the couch, “How was your day in the outskirts?”

     “It was alright,” Daisy replied, as she hopped of her bike. “And quite productive.”

     “And by productive, does that mean you’ll adding to our stockpile of forbidden treasures?” Scraps inquired with a sarcastic tone, as he lounged on the couch with an air of disdain.

     Daisy chuckled as she carried the scraps to her table and placed most of them on the workbench. She was used to Scraps guilt trips and wasn’t letting the little bugger get to her today as she was quite pleased with her haul from the outskirts.

     “Well, someone's got to save these poor bots from a life of neglect,” She carried on, “Even if it means bending a few rules.”

      “Bending?” Scraps repeated, “Darling, you've pole-vaulted over the rulebook numerous times!”

     “Oh, come on, Scraps,” Daisy said, sounding very amused by his banter, “Where's your sense of adventure? Look at these beauties, just waiting to come to life again!”

     “Ah huh,” Scraps said, not sounding that enthusiastic. “As long as they don't decide to conquer the world, I suppose it’s alright.”

     Daisy began sorting the parts, her nimble fingers expertly categorizing each piece.

     “Look at these, Scraps!” she called out,  “We've got servos, capacitors, and even a few high quality processors here. And oh, a pristine optical sensor! This is like Christmas for a tech junkie.”

     “It's more like a 'Go Directly to Jail' card," Scraps warned, his tone serious for a moment. “I can assure you when government agents come busting through your garage door, I will be removing this collar and pretending to be a dumb, unsuspecting pet.”

     Daisy rolled her eyes playfully. “Lighten up, fur ball. I've got this under control. Besides, these parts are essential for progress. Maybe one day the world will see that.”

     “I can see the headlines now,” Scraps mused, flicking his tail about, “Young, naïve mechanic restores robot Savior and ignites Chaos, film at Eleven.”

     “You’ve been watching too many James Cameron movies,” Daisy replied.

     “You haven’t been watching enough!” Scraps countered, “They’ve become part of the documentary section of the major streaming platforms for a reason!”

     “Sheesh,” Daisy said, “You sound just like my father.”

     “I know you’re trying to hurt my feelings,” Scraps retorted, “But I liked him, so it won’t work.”

     “I liked him too,” Daisy concurred, “And I miss him.”

     “You know what he’d say if he were here, right?” Scraps asked.

     “He’d say just promise you won't build a robot army," Daisy said, fully aware of where her father stood on the post robotic war laws.

     “Precisely,” Scraps confirmed, “One robot Armageddon is one too many. Try not to start another if you please.”

     “No promises,” she joked, nudging the cat with her elbow as she walked past him.

     Scraps sighed in mock exasperation. “Well, you're the boss, oh great creator of mechanical mayhem. All I want to know is if one of the day’s under the table jobs was with Mr. Ramirez.”

     “It was,” Daisy confirmed, “And we have a new supply of homemade cat food for you.”

     “Excellent!” Scraps said, as he hopped off the couch and pranced over to the table.

     “Okay, I’ll get you some right now.” Daisy said, as she knew why he was standing there beside her. Chances are she had forgotten to feed him before she left. To be fair, they were running low on food which was why she was eager to get out there and help out those who supply her with food first before hitting the yard to see Carlos.

     The banter dampered down a bit as Scraps wasn’t as fussy with a full belly, so Daisy got to work on her latest project as her mind buzzing with ideas and possibilities. She was a rebel with a cause, defying the odds to breathe life into discarded machines. The world might not understand her vision, but Daisy Jones was determined to push the boundaries and prove that humanity and technology could find harmony. With the night deepening, Scraps curled up on her workbench, keeping her company as she tinkered and dreamed. The illegal parts she had acquired would soon find their purpose in her creations, an act of defiance that ignited a spark of hope in her heart.

     Together, in the midst of this brave new world, they would write their own story—one of innovation, rebellion, and the possibility of a brighter, more integrated future. Daisy and Scraps, a duo set on a collision course with destiny, one rogue bot at a time. With the night deepening, Scraps curled up on her workbench, keeping her company as she tinkered and dreamed. The illegal parts she had acquired would soon find their purpose in her creations, an act of defiance that ignited a spark of hope in her heart.

     “Daisy, as you push the boundaries, please but don't forget the consequences,” Scraps said, his feline eyes glinting with wisdom.

     “I know, Scraps,” Daisy replied, her hands delicately assembling circuits. “But sometimes, progress requires a bit of a rebel spirit, don't you think?”

     Scraps tilted his head, contemplating her words. “I suppose the line between rebel and revolutionary is a fine one. Just promise me you'll always strive to be the latter.”

     Daisy paused, looking at her cat with gratitude. “Deal. Now, let's make some magic happen.”

     With that, they continued their night, sparks flying and ideas soaring—a rebel and her talking cat, shaping a future where the world might just see the light in the circuitry.