Hi peeps, this started out as a plot bunny that just wouldn't let go. But as I wrote it down, the idea grew somewhat, though not enough to let me finish it yet. But, the idea is too good to pass up. So, I'm going out of my comfort zone to bring you this. This is kind of a challenge for me, to see if I can post something that's not done yet and then be able to update it with some semblance of regularity. I hope I'm up to it. If not... sorry. .;
Okay, enough babbling from me already... enjoy!
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No.
Huh?
You are to go back.
Wait, what? Back where?
Go back.
He felt himself viciously thrust- almost thrown- from the presence that had surrounded him. He had barely gotten here; why was he forced to leave now? The warmth that had engulfed him upon arriving had been the greatest thing he had ever felt.
What?! Waiiiiit!
The presence receded rapidly, and he felt himself being pulled in a different direction- downwards, toward what, he didn't know. Whatever it was, it was somewhere he didn't want to be. Surely anywhere else other than here would be awful—nothing could replace the peace that had lovingly surrounded him for such a short time. He tried to move away, but the struggle was futile. He screamed silently as the sensation of being trapped overwhelmed him. True panic finally set in, and he lashed out blindly.
.o.
Bobby practically skipped out of the Game Stop triumphantly. Finally, after months of mowing the grass, scrimping and saving and going without, sweet victory was his! A brand-new Xbox 360 of his very own. He could hardly believe it, after all the torture he had had to endure for this moment of bliss.
So lost was he in his visions of Halo 3 that he didn't even notice the weird kid who ran by on the sidewalk, nor the silver package in his hands as he smacked directly into the front of an on-coming car. Being who Bobby was, he was about to ask if he was okay when the teenager was back on his feet and, snatching the cube-thing, tore like hell down the road once again. Weird, he had thought when he had seen the box-thing hit the ground—
Bobby frowned as the precious box he was carrying began to vibrate. It was as though the machine inside had just turned on. But that was impossible, of course; it would have to be plugged in, right…? Bobby stared at the box as the vibrations increased.
Then two miniature arms broke through the sides of the cardboard box and began flailing around.
Bobby dropped the box and ran away, screaming.
He knew he should've gotten a Wii.
.o.
He lashed out in fear, uncaring of his surroundings. He simply wanted to get out of this prison— and, to his surprise, actually broke through something. Light flooded in, making him cringe and writhe; it was way too bright.
Suddenly there was a jolt, and his prison broke open. Now the light was truly painful as it assaulted his optics. He squealed and thrashed on the ground, shielding his fresh-born visual sensors. He was dimly aware of loud noises around him: heavy thuds that shook the ground, screams, and, in the distance, explosions. Sensory overload from all the sudden input was almost painful, too much for his processor to grasp.
After a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, his optics adjusted so that the light level was bearable, and his small body stilled. He sat up, albeit a bit slowly, and looked around with wonder.
He was sitting on a smooth, white, and very hard surface with grooves in it. In front of him, the pasty ivory surface dropped off slightly into a rougher black surface, on which rested several large machines. Creatures he had never seen before—but which looked oddly familiar—with two legs were screaming and running around chaotically, apparently fleeing the distant explosions.
He couldn't figure out why they were running away—explosions were fun to watch. The mushroom flame, the beautiful billows of thick smoke, the initial detonation itself; who didn't like them?
A nearby sound caught his attention. It wasn't an explosion, but resembled it enough to be interesting. Bright, sky-blue optics searched for the source.
A flourish of emerald, arms, legs. Wait a second—it was a mech! A tall green mech, who was blindly shooting cylindrical objects at the passing two-legged creatures, who screamed more when they saw the ten-foot robot. The smaller one didn't understand this—the mech was using compressed air, which was hardly an explosion and didn't propel the cylinders very far. They all missed, anyway—the green mech wasn't really aiming or anything. The green mech was probably just scared, like him.
Well, no matter. It was a fun talent, even if it wasn't really accomplishing anything. He, decided to make friends with this green mech. They were kindred spirits, after all, and friends were always good to have. He got to his feet unsteadily and tottered over to the towering acquaintance, chattering electronically. The emerald mech stopped short, silencing his shooting, before turning to face the little one and leaning down to regard him. They stared at each other for a few seconds, then grinned (or at least something akin to it) at each other in a wordless understanding, friends. Work together. Protect each other.
A strange noise behind him made him whirl about, and his partner followed suit, glancing up. Two more of the strange creatures had just bolted out of a black machine and fled, screaming. The ebony machine began to split apart and change, growing, silver chrome mixing beautifully with the gleaming black paint. Arms and legs replaced fenders and wheels, and when all was done, a third robot was standing there.
This one dwarfed both him and the green mech. For a long moment, they all stood frozen, staring at each other in something akin to awe.
Then there was another explosion, far closer than any of the others, and suddenly, he didn't think the explosions would be so pretty to look at anymore. Especially not as near as that one was.
By unspoken agreement, the three of them turned and sprinted, the green mech scooping him up along the way. They were a team, a unit, and they knew instinctively they had to stay together to ensure that their short time spent on this curious place wouldn't stay short. They ran for their newly-begun lives as explosions and pandemonium chased them down the street.
After a few minutes of running throughout the maze of massive structures that extended further than they could see, they wound up in a small area where much of the surrounding chaos was blocked off. It was dark and abandoned—a perfect spot to hide and rest for a bit. The intense fighting seemed to have gone in a different direction, much to their appeasement. The black robot flopped down against a crumbling brick wall, and the green mech followed suit, still holding him.
The respite gave their processors time to catch up with what was going on. Since he didn't know what the purpose of the fighting and explosions was, it was best to avoid them. He could worry about that later. For now, he was more interested in…himself.
He stared at his small hands. They were completely new to him, and yet…it seemed almost natural to have clawed, four-fingered hands. Flexing them experimentally, he noted the feel of tiny servos working in harmony. He glanced down at his chassis, with the accompanying Xbox logo on it, his white, gleaming arms and legs and even his sharp toes, perfect for climbing and moving quickly.
Yet there was nothing he could explain about the sensations he was having—most of all the strange impression that he was... different somehow. Different from the way he used to be. But that was an odd thought. He had no memories from whatever this "used to be" time would have been—as far as he knew, he had always been like this.
The mini-bot looked over at his companions, who seemed to be experiencing similar epiphanies. They, like his own body, were utterly unknown to him, and yet he felt he knew them from somewhere. Like he should know where they had come from, what they were to him, even simply their names.
And shouldn't he know his own?
That processor-jarring thought made him squeak out loud. His name! What was it? Surely he had to have one, didn't he? It was there, he knew it, somewhere just out of his reach…
"Are you all right?" the large ebony bot said, and he realized it had a feminine aspect. Glancing up into her larger, emerald optics he nodded, replying in the same electronic chatter she had used.
"Yes, I am functional. …Do you know my name?"
"Name?" The black femme seemed confused, obviously not having thought of it before. "No… I don't know my own."
"But we do have names, don't we?" the green mech said, his tone worried. "I know I have a name!"
"We have to have names," he agreed. "We just don't remember them, that's all."
"Yes, but I want to remember mine, now!" the femme said, almost angrily. "I want to know who I am."
"But how?" the green mech said. "What do we do?"
That silenced them all for a while. None of them could figure out a way to find their names.
Deciding his name would probably elude him despite his best efforts, he went back to exploring his body. He was delighted to discover that he had a connection to computers all over the world, something called the Internet. Maybe it would help him. And if not, there seemed to be more fun things floating around in it than he could look at in a lifetime. It was a vast repository of information, linking together millions, possibly even billions, of different computers. The sheer scale of it was staggering—and tempting. Who knew how much fun he could have exploring it?
"Hey! Look at this!" he said to his companions. Within seconds the three of them had logged on and were exploring the Internet with glee, downloading information at speeds that would have made Bill Gates jealous.
He soared through with awe, looking at different videos. Every conceivable type of entertainment was here, from people doing stupid things to informative videos to silliness to music.
Music… he searched through the Internet for more of it. It was amazing, this type of sound that humans enjoyed listening to. It was like a different type of communication or stimulus, one that needed no words. And there were so many kinds, too! Rock and pop and classical and—
He leaped up with a cry of triumph. His companions twitched and glanced at him, startled at his sudden outburst. He chattered excitedly for a few seconds before becoming intelligible again.
"My name! My name! I know my name!" He punched the air in a gesture of victory. "I know what it is!"
"What's your name, then?" the femme asked.
He squared his shoulders proudly. "My name is Jazz."
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See why this is such an amazing plot bunny?? .:pets plot bunny:. Don't worry, you'll find out who the other two are soon!
Please review if you liked it... hell, review if you didn't like it. I can always use constructive criticism, don't be afraid of hurting my feelings. Flames will be fed to my mutant killer plot bunnies. 3