Le restaurant des robots rêveurs

"Still, humans were humans. They wanted you to know their opinions about your body, even if you hadn’t asked. At least one thing had changed since Independence: thanks to bot civil rights, she could control her facial expressions. Now, at last, she could frown when someone asked what was hiding under her skirt."

A bit of allegory here, perhaps. Robots with different backgrounds, interests, needs, and pronouns.

A war bot with PTSD from losing comrades, he seems to choose to hold onto the memory by keeping the full definition recording of the negative events in his primary memory.

There's top surgery for a customer service bot that wanted control of her own facial expressions.

There's a color changing octobot that can taste everything from food smells in the air to bacteria expelled from humans. He also has to swim in a sewer. Both literally and metaphorically, as he hangs in crypto trading forums and actually has to swim in shit.

It's really a lovely story, well-written, with full character development. It's a story of overcoming adversity and killing a review-bomber acting on behalf of a foreign power. Well, at least metaphorically.

I picture Hands as Johnny 5. Alive, and seeking input.