The Cyborg's Butterfly: Science Fiction

Being a cyborg is more--difficult--than most people think. Sure, you become a massive entity with insane amounts of processing power and an armature that allows you to do pretty much anything you want. But all those grafts come with a price, and that price is an amount of pain that would drive anyone homicidally insane if they weren't drugged and soothed out of their minds. It's why we're all such calm, distractable, happy people. You know the old cyborg joke. "What are your demands, O horrifying warrior?" "I want all your resources, your credit allocation for the--ooh, a butterfly!" That's one of the reasons why the first thing any customs party checks (usually, the first thing they send a customs scout to check, while everyone else stays back with their finger on the weapons trigger) is the med dispenser record in the cyborg's armor. Want to make sure we're all good. It takes an insane amount of willpower to finish anything, once you're as drugged as you have to be in order to function with half replacement parts and another quarter added on that were never there in the first place.


Inspiration: A friend in the hospital, heavily sedated with a breathing tube, and remembering how it was for myself when I was under serious drugs.
Story potential: High.
Notes: This--makes sense. I think it could be a good character base.