Wristwatch Roulette II of XII: Robocwatch

What's this; Now/Then? #

If you've just joined us, welcome to my series: Wristwatch Roulette, where I furnish my forearm with two fancy finds a fortnight, from fan-favourite Ali Express, market of choice for my 2023 series Shenzhen Safari, and 2024 series Shenzhen Sojourn.

I'd buy that for a dollar! #

But, is it even possible to top the regal highlight of Wristwatch Roulette Ⅰ?
I should just give up now. There's no way I can better the R[oyal]-Shock.

Like pulling a legendary sword sharp from a stone—say Excalibur—after conversing with a lakeside lady…I'd find that hard atop.

What's this, Sven? #

Yield to me. By the pseudo-random selection of fate and weight, I pull another chunky length of corporeal life-slicing lassitude from the tub.

Look at the hideous logotype dominating the forehead like an expression of cheapness. The gaudy plastic brushed-metal looking silver body. Water resist, printed in, what is that, Arial? Octothorpe-vomit-emoji.

I have to put this accursed bracelet on my wrist and wear it in public? And expect people to take me seriously? Let alone like the generously caring, tall, dark, and handsome summer Duke that my dominant stance and erect bearing conveys? Pass the hemlock. Woe is me. Deliver this unto my enemies when I am long gone.

Wrist-hugger Attack on Titan Attachment #

Well, I've come this far. Bravely advance to unsheathe it from the warded plastic prison. As I reach to break the containment seal, a thrumming '80s synth surges overhead in the skies. Is this the rapture? Heavenly trumpets are being Brassoed, so the Korg calls instead. What's four decades in the scales of the Universe?

Plastic slit crinkling apart, moaning quietly, the synth cuts out.
Eyes-wide, I've made a huge mistake. I realise that now.

The watch animates itself. Strap writhing and lashing hungrily from the packet.
Slicing into my arm, I grit my teeth. It is at odds.

It shudders and quivers in fear at my restraining grip (no doubt repulsed by my Omega-level orange aura);
Yet it is compelled to live. It senses no other potential hosts in striking distance.

How? I don't know. Mind-link? Has it already bonded to a cluster of my neurons? Was it the opening? Or our first touch?

I yield.
It fits well.
It feels so good.
It looks so wrong.

Cut off your nose, despise your face #

A rectangular/square case, dates strung along the top with Sunday red-squared and a tall Saturday.
The hours and minutes chimney-stacked (columned) left.
A pointless flashing red-on-black sign in the centre, advertising the watch is multi-function.
And the seconds practically have their own dimension off to the right.
A wavy black banner flows. Sliver encroach the top and bottom of the display.

Even a worm will turn #

Wait. It's actually quite beautiful. The format. The flowing border, reminiscent of what? Wipeout? Ridge Racer Type 4? I can't quite place it, but it makes my brain tingle because it's not a boring, fucking vacant, homogenic, thoughtless empty vassal, like say the Apple Watch.

Decisions were made. Bad ones? If one purely looks through a lens of functionality, then yes; clear as the waters of denial, fresh from mowing tan's reign. But wristwatches are jewellery too. I can tell the time ably with one, and the design elements which are awkward, bizarre, or impractical add to the charm, no? A coquette contradiction. Or massive peacocking?

Hold.

There are four cross-head screws on the front of the plastic case.

Let's tinker.

Scraping the Beast from Beauty's Subface #

As I remove the screws, realisation dawns:
This is not a plastic faceplate with speed-bump style ridges to protect the display. This is metal. Real metal tech.

So I resolve to make my own design decision, and rustle up an abrasive sheet of 80 grit sandpaper.

Rubbing, not transversely, but in-line with the timeline. From left to right I grunge-ify the faceplate. Now semi-naked in appearance, de-branded, the melted-penny brown melds with silverish stripes. What have I done?

Harkening back and forth to the bronze age, ALIENS, Robocop, Nirvana, Wipeout 2097, Mudhoney, the Bronze Age, Soundgarden, ancient Rome, Starship Troopers, medieval times, Dune, and the advent of quartz LCD driven time machinery. Deus Ex Machina.

That's it, man! Game over, man! Game over! #

Flock. Buy and make your Synoke "Robocwatch" Large Screen Square watch here, or…use the scumbag (non-affiliate) link here. I provide.
Your move, Creep.

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