Hello 'dere. First thing I'd like to say is- HA! This is actually and officially a Megaman Legends Fic! Ha! Perhaps more hated than Iris herself! So HA! HA ha ha'cch *cough*
Well anyway, love it or hate it, this IS a MML story. Yes this is a strange story and no, none of the char's are really mine, but rip anything off from here and I'll track you down and there will be much with the beating about the head and shoulders with large blunt objects. All things belong to their respective owners, such as Capcom and da like, and if you rip THEM off the violence will be terrible. And don't bother asking what the heck is wrong with my head, because brother (sister? other?) I don't have an answer for ya. Babu. But yer free to come over and laugh and throw rotten vegetable matter at sad_mudokon@hotmail.com -just keep the flames toasty and low. We don't need a bonfire here people.
Megaman Legends: Altered Destinies
Chapter 1: premeditated experimentation, and the disappointment of fair-weather friends
The sun shone down, blazing through the clear morning air; glorious in the early morning chill. The wind moved ever so slowly, rippling across the waving grass and flowing around the unknown figure standing still and lifeless under the shade of the tree. Leaning casually against the rough bark, he stood, face to the sky; the faint, jovial little flicker of wind teased at him, twirling the windblown locks of mouse brown hair into a comical halo around his face and sliding gently over the lacquer surface of his tarnished black armor. Shifting a little, he let his eyes slide away from the sky for the briefest of moments, abandoning his musing contemplation to glance down at the dark glint of it's surface. The sun glittered feebly, struggling to escape the black, oily stain across the dull metal. Slowly running a small, hand over the black sheen, he played a couple of fingers across the surface; not a mark of the old blue dared shine through. How it glowed. How it shone... it really was quite pretty. Stylish too. Shading his eyes from the blaring sun, he faced into the wind, slowly surveying the pristine landscape, glancing around for the darkened hull of a- there it is...
Shaded in the leaning nine o'clock shadow of a heavy pine, the squat Leopardo battle tank sat in the middle of the field, engine idling. Waves of exhaust ripple the air gently with hot fumes...
Facing away from him, the tank sat, surveying the grassy swath of ground in front of it. Unaware...
The dark form suddenly smiled... it wasn't a very nice smile. Pushing off from the tree in a faint pattering rain of pine needles, he moved towards the tank, his steps languid, like those of a stalking cat; confident, unconcerned. His thoughts drifted briefly as he walked, stalking along their own dark paths for the briefest of moments... was this what he was supposed to be? Was this part of it? Was he like this... was this really what he was? Pushing the errant musings aside, he continued onwards, letting the thoughts drift from his head as he surveyed the situation. The sensors would never pick him up, not from this angle... Narrowing his eyes, he slid silently forward, approaching the boxy back plating, closer and closer, till he was almost under the tank...
The rich black liquid steamed faintly as it poured from the meticulously polished thermos; the light glinting through it carried a strange, faintly disturbing color, the odd oily tint of too-old coffee. Dejectedly swirling the black aromatic stuff in the ceramic mug, the servbot sipped delicately at his rancid black coffee as he listened to he inspiring tones of Miss Tron's heated screaming tearing into someone or other over the tinny, disjointed tones of the radio. Sighing, he leaned forward, the chair making odd little squeaking noises as he retrieved the sugar container from the console before him, belatedly swatting a few grains from the metal with a reticent pincer. Grinding the spoon into the white stuff, he dolled another spoonful of sugar into the liquid (sixth scoop), swirling it gently till it had melted in, his face musing (as musing as a servbot's could conceivably be) and leaned back, letting out a long sigh...
~It might not help me remember. It was insane, and it was damn dangerous... but hey, it was fun...~ Smiling, Megaman shimmied a little farther under the tank. The grass beneath him smeared against his shoulder plates as he crushed it under his considerable weight, further soiling the black stain of his armor. The manic grin flared again as his hands found a panel, silently sliding it out of the way. ~I needed a distraction anyway...take my mind off things for a moment... a nice, relaxing activity to occupy me...~ grunting and straining, he shifted, forcing the end of his Mega buster into some very delicate wiring in the bowels of the tank, and let his eyes slide closed as the plasma began to gather...
The first jarring impact threw the little servbot around in his seat, tossing him bodily against the seat belt as the entire tank rocked with the first jarring explosion. Pincers fumbling, the mug tumbled free as he unclipped himself- his head met the command console with a horrid clanging crunch as the entire tank buckled under another blast. Eyes winced closed, he rubbed belatedly at the chip marring his facial paint, whimpering slightly in confusion. Weaving unsteadily as his vehicle quivered and shook, he made his way to the hatch, stumbling and leaning on the bulkheads and walls, a migraine already rooting itself firmly in his head...
Light. A horrible booming explosion and a sickening sense of vertigo tore haywire through the servbot's circuits as a startled wail tore itself from his throat. The sky danced with the ground, a waltz never-ending, each filling his vision as he flipped... he had a brief moment to wonder at the happenings that seemed to be going on around him as, below him, the grass shone with a crystalline perfection. Suddenly equilibrium became descent and the stalks rushed towards him, reached up to meet him, striking him punishingly in the face like a green fist.
~Oookay now.. I don't know precisely where I am but whoever just hit me with that train is REALLY gonna regret it...~ Small sounds leaked from the back of his throat as he lay there, his eyes firmly pressed closed as if no force on earth could convince them that perhaps looking around might be a bit of a good idea right now. Indistinguishable creaking buzzes of pain and broken machinery came out in one very unhappy groan as he shifted, his titanium body insisting that yes, he had indeed fallen through the crust of the earth and into some unknown hell. Shaking loose bits of grass and soil, the pulled himself to his feet, weaving and unsteady. Limbs shaking and malfunctioning, the servbot glanced up, one eye sporting a hairline crack right across the 'cornea'... ~great. blind and achy. Tanks Miss Tron can stand losing but she's really gonna tear into me about the contact lenses...oww. I didn't know EVERYTHING could hurt all at once...~ Unsteady and sick, he doubles over, pincers on his knees, breath choking in his metallic throat...
"I love fireworks first thing in the morning, don't you? ...not so impressive during the daylight hours but the smell of explosives sure wakes a fellow up in the morning..." Snapping his head up, the servbot froze, his face caught in a mask of horror. The black armored figure allowed himself a none too nice smile, his face covered in streaks of thick black oil, shining like blood in the sun... "OhmygodI'mgonnaDIE- MISS TRON!!! HEEIIII!!!!!"
Megaman laughed, his voice high and amused as he saw the little robot charge blindly away... A deep, unpleasant snicker rose in his throat as he followed behind it, slipping up beside it, easily matching the pathetic pace of the scrambling, short limbed little bot. Pacing it like a predator, he drew back his arm... his fist clenching. "Oh do stay for a bit of a chat... it's so nice to get aquainted, and on suuuuch a nice day too..."
The fist caught it in the jaw, rocking the head back as it fell, flopping helplessly a few times like a well kicked can, before rolling to rest against a hill. Megaman pounced, lunging closer, his foot flashing out in a black blur.
His foot snapped out, slamming solidly into the servbot's stomach, the little form curling around his armored shoe as he drove it brutally into the bright, cheery blue metal of the torso. The servbot gasped, near crying, the eyes wild as it heaved and sputtered, pulling itself to it's feet, making little distressing noises as it limped wretchedly away.
Megaman snickered, his eyes lit up with the game. He paced the small, frantic little robot, booting it around like a football. Finding a nearby tree, he happily set to work, seeing just how much of the servbot's face paint job he could scuff off on the hard bark, holding the muffled wailing little machine in both arms as he pushed as hard as he can. Struggling, the servbot wrenched itself out of his grasp, gasping as it hauled itself up onto a lower branch and out of reach, breath heaving.
Growling in annoyance, Megaman stalked around the tree, eyeing his prey with growing frustration. Hurrumphing, he ground his teeth, leaning against the trunk of the tree and looking up into the gloom of the branches. "Come on down little one... you're spoiling the fun so..."
Only harsh, choked panting, almost weeping, answered his call.
"Oh come on now... we were having such a good time. Sure you won't come down? Final warning..."
"Go... to- h-hell."
"!!-Why you little bastard..." Lips tight, he shook, his face carved deep with repugnant malice. Staring, he pursed his lips- then abruptly laughed. It wasn't a very nice laugh.
The first blast tore through the main two thirds of the trunk, the wood groaning in vegetable agony as the entire tree began to buckle and shake. The eerie, insane laughter continued, almost jovially, as he simply began blasting the tree to hot burning splinters, the canopy rapidly disintegrating under the deluge of hot plasma... At the cracking destruction of a particularly large limb, the small cheery colored form plummeted from the needlelike foliage, impacting the ground with a harsh, faintly reverberating clangor.
Trapped under the smoking remains of a branch half again the thickness of its body, it lay there, near tears as it's little pincers dug furloughs in the dirt. Struggling weakly, it didn't respond as Megaman approached it, kicking the wood free and planting his foot securely on the small robot's back, grinding it into the turf with preoccupied malice.
Megaman couldn't help the yawn came over him. Stretching a little, he sighted the sun, looking down at the shaking little form, half huddled under the punishing weight of his foot. "Whoop. Time's winding down, the morning falters into noon. The game has been fun. But like all things this game must end. And so, I'm afraid, must you..."
Reaching the grounded servbot, he bent, one hand caressing almost gently against it's shoulder as his other arm rises, firmly setting the business end of his buster gun to the little bot's head.
Feeling half dead, he hung limply in his captive's grip. The majority of his visual capacity gone, he barely knew where he was, a faint, warbling whimper fluttering in his throat. Massive, spreading cracks covered the glass enhancements of his eyes, blinding him. Long scrapes of shining metal glaring through the paint of his face like open wounds, he shook, turning blindly towards the brief pressure against his head. As the object settled almost comfortably against his forehead, he gasped faintly, feeling the first flickering tracers of warmth...
The plasma burst blinded it, obliterating the already heavily damaged corrective contact plates and burning out all the radiation sensors within the main corneas of the eyes. The glass blew out faintly, shattering in disturbing little hairline cracks. The blast washed across the servbot's face, blasting and mildly melting the titanium plating along the left side and tearing out a panel on it's shoulder. The burning plasma tore down the throat- allowing Megaman the convenience of not hearing the servbot scream.
It was still functioning. Megaman blinked, tilting his head, turning the mangled little bot this way and that with his blackened hand in almost childlike wonder... the mangled little body sucked in another breath, almost as if to helpfully confirm the fact to him. oh well. Running a hand through his mussed brown hair, he trailed oil and robotic circulatory fluids across his scalp, pausing a moment to contemplate his next actions. Surveying the wrecked little servbot for a moment, he paused, bracing it briefly against the boll of the ruined, smoking tree.
Working his fingers briefly along his side, he caressed the little seam along the left side of the little, scuffed up body, digging his fingers into the metal a little as he muttered. "There there now... just calm down... you're going to help out uncle Megaman, isn't that nice?" Straining, he tensed, his fingers digging into the loose panel on the servbot's side. Tearing the little bot open, he ripped off the front panel of it's body, slipping a few fingers inside the gaping wiring of the shuddering little thing and worked free a handful of energy capsules. Breaking one open on his boot, he smeared the faintly glowing orange energy across his face, the tingling energy soothing the faintly niggling burns garnered during the explosion. Tucking away the remaining capsules into a side compartment, he turned to go, prepared to drop the half dead little bot in a heap- then smiled as a sudden thought worked it's way into his mind ~hmmm... still alive. Perhaps this 'fun' need not end so soon after all...~
The sound of lapping water reaching his ears, he turned, hauling the dangling little carcass of wires and metal behind him.
Blinded, the wretched little form hung gutted over the stream, eyes not so much closed as utterly ruined, small flakes of glass falling from the scuffed and half melted face to plink delicately into the stream. The wind made a faint, mournful moaning noise as it slipped through the exposed metallic intestines, almost as if mourning the little form. It slowly teased along the pipes and tubing, chilling the metal wherever it was wetted from previously ingested liquids or the dripping, black mechanical blood. The little form was shaking, small sparks of energy causing the limbs to occasionally twitch feebly, the pincers clamped shut... unable to see, it merely hung there, the CPU regulator sensors working overtime to stem the tide of programmed artificial agony, and failing. Unable to breathe, the combustion unit began shutting down, the CPU fluttering... Internal... systems... not working...CPU losing... power...
Megaman smiled softly. Bent over the bridge, he held the little servbot over the clear, flowing water. Leaning in close, he breathed in a playful, soft tone "It's almost sad you know... sorry to be parting ways soooo soon, but I must be off- and so, sadly must you. Oh, and little fact for you- water and open machinery don't mix" as he casually opened his clenched fingers, releasing the burden with an almost kind smile etched across his face.
The water flooded every subsystem. Filling the open chest cavity, the liquid sloshed inside, the little body shivering as shocks sparked through internal subsystems no longer internal, jerking it as the electricity blazed and faded, only to flare again. A haze took the CPU's fading consciousness as the water flooded into the Servbot's mechanical brain, slowly draining off the last feeble vestiges of the life sustaining power. The last functioning recording of the servbot's dying eyes were of the hazy and water distorted image of Megaman grinning down at through the water, face stained and smeared with oil and blood...
Mind musing momentarily, Megaman pulled himself back up. Gathering a few scattered refractor shards off of the ground, he tucked them amidst the garnered capsules and set out across the grass. Not looking behind him, he paused, his mind running over the few events of the past ten minutes or so, a gentile distracted smile playing itself across his face as he moves off, gliding across the grass and into the woods, his eyes shadowed and thoughtful...
"No I don't know where the little guy is Tron... maybe he ducked out for a bit of a siesta you know? You have been working them a bit hard..." Backing away from the volatile little powder keg his sister had suddenly become, Teasel ducked, smoothing his hair nervously as her gaze suddenly swung around, fixing on his own with a very un-amused glare.
"Oh and I suppose I'm just supposed to let them laze around all day long? Let them go on their merry little ways wreaking who knows how much havoc? And besides... who gave him permission to just sneak off like that? Without me knowing what happened to him?? He could be in trouble, Teasel... I just have this terrible feeling in my gut..."
"Well that's easy to take care of, just don't eat anymore of #26's cooking-" He ducked out of the way as the ceramic mug stating "I love mischief" suddenly erupted into shards an inch from his head. Shaken a little more than he would like to admit, Teasel looked up, staring at his sister soberly...
"I'm-serious-Teasel. Something bad has happened. Just find him okay? ...please?"
Staring into his sister's eyes, he shook faintly, nodding his head...
Stepping around a few of the panicking servbots. Teasel bent down, pulling at the cord he had afixed to the dark shape under the water, dreading what he would find.... And, straining, pulled up the heap of smashed metal... the eyes staring blankly. Teasel jumped back, dropping the mangled remains onto the hard, rough wood of the bridge, watching in a kind of sickened curiosity as the little river eel worked it's way out of it's new home in the servbot's gaping stomach, flopping in the light before falling back into the river with a small 'plop'. Gritting his teeth at the rapidly increasing cries of "master Teeeisel!!!" that were rising in a gale from the gaggle of servbots milling around him, he could only shake his head. "...Glad Tron's not here. she'd fall apart at seeing one of her 'children' like this. This is... they even broke his contact lenses... that's..." the shock gripped his insides, turning them to water and his mind to a bloody haze. With the tip of his boot, he pushed the unsalvageable mangled little corpse back into the river, unable to handle it anymore, watching the water close over it. Numb, he turned, herding (browbeating) the gang of servbots back onto the airship hovering pristinely over the grass behind them.
"COME ON peoples! It's time to get the HECK out of here!!" looking on last time at the river, he shook his head, red glass eyes glinting once in a surreal flash before, turning, he climbed inside. The surface of the water rippled with the blast of air, marking their departure as the Drache dipped and hovered, rising above the Clozer Woods. Teasel merely stared, his eyes glued to the world outside the window, silent as stone.
"Um... Tron?"
"-Yes?" Turning, Tron glanced up from what she was doing, a smile on her face as she glanced up to her older brother. Her hands stilled, one rising to rub at an itch plauging her cheek, the gesture leading a line of smeared grease along her face.
Teasel fidgeted nervously, his mind buzzing through different ways to soften the blow. He hated bearing bad news. Tron wiped at the newly anointed grease on her face, further smearing across her cleanly complexion, and tilted her head, confused, at her brother.
"Teasel? What's this all about?"
"Tron? -They found one of your servbots out in the field."
"What the police?? Is he okay? they didn't arrest him or-"
"No no Tron... not the police- another servbot."
Tron stared for long seconds, her eyebrows eventually twisting in confused annoyance as she drawled out. "Aaaaaand? Where is this leading Teasel?"
"Tron. It's been deactivated. I didn't know what you wanted do-"
"Oh Teasel don't be silly. I'm sure he's just knocked out by one thing or another- maybe he got hit by a car. They do silly stuff like that." Dismissing the information, she bends once again to the piece of machinery she was working on- an almost completed servbot hull. It's cheery faceplate was done, sitting on a table, fresh wet stencil sitting nearby. Teasel fidgeted, running a hand over the flamboyantly frizzy gray crest of hair at the back of his head. His descending hand struck the table for just a moment- the wood bucked a little, the tip of the stencil sliding down across a section of the newly painted eye ring, smearing the still wet paint at the bottom. It kind of looked like tears- not a good sign of things to come. Momentarily allowing himself to be distracted, Teasel studied the metallic body, asking in a light, feinted calm. "Thinking of makin a few more servbots Tron?" Listening to her calm, happy reply, he could only shake his head.
"You should take something into account Tron. We're down a number-"
Tron's head lifted at the words, her eyes showing a hint of concern. "The- faceplate had taken a lot of damage... the paint nearly gone. One eye cracked... pretty bad. It's iris's were completely empty- freakiest things I've seen. Tron- it's frontal plate had been torn off. Wires sticking everywhere... we found it in the stream. He's gone, Tron. I... thought you should know..." Ending lamely, Teasel raised his eyes from his metallic boots, glancing up to Tron- who just stood there, staring at him. Her voice was rather eerie as she said in a low, quiet voice. "...where is he now?"
"I didn't know what you wanted- I pushed it back in the stream-" Teasel winced, expecting his fiery little sister to explode at him- but she was no longer facing him. Her eyes were glued to the metal wall- about a foot above the half completed servbot. "Teasel?"
"Mm Hmmn?"
"If you remember where... go back. And get hi- it. No- just- just retrieve the main CPU system- Okay? Got that? The little box in the head" Looking down, apparently staring at her toes, Tron was instead staring at the gaping head of the Servbot. She'd have answers... she told herself it was just for answers. Not because her stomach churned at the thought of one of her children 'dead'.
Teasel nodded, closing his eyes as he removed himself from the room and walked down the corridor, wreathed by a few silent servbots, somber for once in their lives. His hand clenched as he walked, eyes flashing. 'who would do that? Who would DO something like that?' A low growl issued forth from the tall, green brooding form as he slipped through a doorway, on his way to the bridge.
"Baabuu!!" Bon Bonne burbled happily in greeting as Teasel stepped silently through the darkened doorway of the bridge of the Gesellshaft, eyes on the floor. One glance at Teasel's face brought the strange, hulking robot up short, blinking slowly as he stared at his brother's disquieting mood. "baaahhbuu..."
The door opened. Tron slipped up besides her brother, followed by her own cloud of servbots trailing behind her through the automatic door.
"Be right back Tron. Promise. Quick trip in a Drache, there and back. We'll have him back soon Tron. Don't you worry yourself about that." Teasel held back a sniff as he looked down at his stone somber sister...
Her face suddenly twisted in anger, and strength. Gritting her teeth, her head whipped around and she said in a firm voice "Thanks Teasel! Be careful- but if you find out who did that to him give him a good one for me! Make him PAY!" her little glove clenched as she seethed, a small, angry pout taking her face. The mood shifted with that dramatic sentence, so strikingly that everyone just hung there for a moment, trying desperately to hold the seriousness...
Teasel laughed at the sudden change of mood, tousling his sister's hair in the way he knew she hated. Turning bright red, she swatted him, chasing him out of the bridge room, heavy footsteps and ridiculous, masculine giggles echoing down the hall as he headed for the Drache's hanger.
The grass whipped and rippled in the wind as the Drache slowly set to earth. Teasel poked his head out the doorway as the hatch opened, glancing around as the door turned ramp set to earth, forming a walkway from the entrance of the craft. Followed by a bevy of three wide eyed servbots (can their eyes even get wider? o_0) he stepped from the craft onto the waving grass, his bushy crest of hair bobbing this way and that as he glances around, hands on his hips. "Nobody here...hmm... looks like it's safe to venture out. Well c'mon everybody- lets get this over with."
"ROOOOOOGGGGEERRRRRRRR!!"(Chorused)
The bridge groaned, shifting with minute little buckling movements, the already nervous servbots staring around with their wide, unblinking eyes as Teasel circled them, calling out instructions, admonishments and other less than useless hollerings as he waved his arms animatedly and otherwise hindered things. "good good NO pull the left one- no don't let the line out YOU DUNDERHEADS good no now- NO!!! ARRGH!!" Servbots toppling and yelling with pathetic comedy, one tripping the other with a leadline till they were toppling like dominos, nearly dropping into the stream. Shaking his head, Teasel wandered in, threading his way around fallen servbots till he had reached the end of the rope. Grunting, he clenched, pulling as hard as he could...
Waving away milling servbots, he bent over the still, leaking form, watching the wood darken as the water flowed from the gaping titanium chassis of the... body. It was the only way he could describe the pathetic little thing. It was creepy... Shaking himself out of his musing, he tilted his head, looking the little form over... "In the head... In the head... well.... How does one get something like that out?" Staring... the explanation came to him, pulling a grimace from his mouth. Looking carefully around, he glanced this way and that, his eyes shadowed and his hair bobbing wildly. He nodded, not a servbot in immediate sight. Bushy eyebrows knitting, he turned back to the bot and, before any other servbots wandered into view, grabbed the rim of the chin, quickly ripping off the voicebox grill beneath. Thrusting a hand under the chin, he braced a foot against one of the 'underarms' and, straining, ripped the 'throat' out. Grimacing as he reached into the gory metallic remains, circulatory fluids coating his wrist and coursing down his arm, he felt around in the head, hands slippery with the synthetic fluids as his fingers scrabble across pipe and wire- till- he had it. Gripping the slippery metal box as best he could, he suddenly ripped back and down, his hand tearing the box from it's mooring- circuits hanging ,he holds it triumphantly over his head, grinning. "I GOT IT!" ... "um..." Smiling in embarrassment at the staring servbots, he quickly thrust the box behind him before coughing studiously. "Well- we got it- lets be running along now back to Miss Tron before someone unpleasant gets here..."
"Right!" they chorused, filing back into the small airship. Teasel turned for a moment. Staring down at the still little shape, lying open and forlorn on the bridge before him... "Now.. I can understand- how Tron feels... " Glancing back- he hesitated... then pushed the empty little bot back into the stream, sighing-
"Master Teasel! Hurry up master Teasel! It's time to go!" the beckoning servbot waved, hanging halfway out of the craft. Teasel nodded and followed, treading slowly up the gangplank before disappearing into the darkness of the craft.
The CPU clanged as it hit the metal table, spinning briefly before coming to rest. Tron stared at it. One eyebrow rose slightly as she raised her head... "...Teasel?" he looked to her. "-couldn't you have cleaned it first??" Giggling in embarrassment, Teasel straightened, running a hand over the back of his neck... then recoiled, a look of utter disgust on his face as he pulls his fluid slick hand from his skin, turning bright red. "Sorry Tron... I'm going to take a shower now- Bon's in command for a while- see you in a bit" He was gone before she could say anything... Quirking an eyebrow, her lip curled into a grin... that Teasel...
Turning back, she shooed the few servbots in the room out the door and locked it. Turning back, she stared over the equipment; the servbot form, it's head wide open, gaping forlornly. The CPU sitting serenely (and dirtily) on the metal table. Stretching, she suddenly clenched her hands- her fingeres crackled, popping satisfyingly as she stepped forward...
Teasel's hand, pushing open the door, suddenly pulled back- the spray of sparks pouring over his glove, startling him- the door swinging free. Tron looked up, pulling off her weilding mask as the door abruptly closed... Then opened, Teasel staring dazed as his nose flared red...Wincing and laughing, Tron led him into the room, leaning him silently against a tool table against the wall...
"Almost done... I guess, academically, with this we'll see if we can successfully reactivate a bot without memory loss... non academically? Well ... I don't want to just leave him sitting around. I couldn't just leave him like that. Cold and dead." She looked down, her face a shifting sea of hurt, at the still form of the newly made bot body. A hairline seam, it's top hot and glowing. The eyes were still empty, still deactivated; the same mindless emptiness the bot had worn in death. A faint shift took Tron's features, her eyes flaring briefly as she grappled the welding torch once again, raising it, menacing the air before her as she locks eyes with Teasel. "I'll just be done with the welding in half a second- just you wait and see! He'll be good as new! We'll have him back!"
Confused, Teasel stared at the lifeless face of the servbot on the table, it's body utterly limp and it's eyes empty "But who is 'him'? What's his number?" Teasel glanced over at the face... the smeared eye, paint dribbling down... still there. Pulling his attention from the eyes, he watched, wincing at the bright glare. "I took a look at the listings. Had to do a bit of calling. Everyone's accounted for. Save one. Servebot number eight. Name's Bink. He's a sniper. Sharpshooter. Accurate and quick. Tends to also go for gunner or pilot positions. Likes explosives and coffee... I think..." Teasel's long, incredulous whistle follows, his eyes wide and surprised. Looking a bit sheepish, Tron grinned as she bent back to her welding. "Hey... what can I say? I know my children."
Smiling, Tron pulled back, the welding laser shutting off... "There! Good as new! Better actually- gotten the practice of it- none of those structural flaws in the body THIS time! Heh- he doesn't even need contact lenses anymore! We'll teach em' to take out one of our own. Teasel! Throw the switch!" Tron's eyes glowed like a mad scientist, her hands clenched and eyes bright and burning as she leaned over the still little form... Humming, Teasel bent over and unceremoniously flipped the switch, smiling serenely...
Thoughts... Images... swirling- indistinct. Fighting- against shadow and tide, thick flowing water... thick as the black fluids running through his systems... head rushing, he heard, eons away a faint click...
His eyes snapped into focus, the light stabbing into his sensor shield. Wincing, he blinked several times, his body feeling more like lead then titanium. The rather disappointing blurry haze slowly sharpened, coalescing into... Miss Tron. staring in concern down at him.. A weak, watery smile lit his face. He coughed slightly, the sound tinny and odd in his new throat. Tron's face was a myriad of emotions as she bent over him, asking very softly.
"Hey now... feeling okay?"
"...yeah."
"...I'm glad."
"Oh n' Miss Tron? -I'm sorry about the tank. It blew up."
Tron's laugh was faint, shaky. Pressing her knuckles to her forehead, she shook a little, bending to help the small robot sit up.
Teasel's hand clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him from the table as he leaned over the bot, laughing.
"Well looks like your back!! Congratulations on coming back from the dead!! Come on!! We got you pizza!" Hauling the dazed, groggy confused little bot behind him, he tromped Bink down the hall, out the door. Tron shook her head, rubbing at the soot stains in her hair with a groan as she followed them...
She hugged him. It was all she could do. He hadn't said anything for almost a half hour, just leaning against her, in her arms. Tron's eyes were closed, her face drawn and her arms comforting as she rocked him, occasionally muttering comforting noises and holding him close. The party had seemed to go well save for one detail... they were afraid of him. They smiled, nodding, welcoming him back... but behind him, around him- the servbots directly out of his line of sight... stared. Just stood there and stared... as if they were waiting for something to happen- for demon wings to sprout or fire to flicker forth in his eyes. He had died. He was different now... no longer the innocent he had been before- he had changed. They didn't mean to ostracize him... They weren't trying to be mean...
He slipped out halfway through the party. Tron noticed it immediately. The emptiness of his presence coming to her almost before he was gone. She had always been able to keep track of each and every servbot in her presence, remembering their names perfectly, uncannily. Turning her head, she carefully tilted to avoid running the tip of her hair into a potted fern, warmly running her fingers over the servbot she had been spending time with and rose, producing an excuse and wandered away, towards the door to the parlor room...
It took few moments... almost as if by a sense of instinct (maternal instinct?) she had wandered, eyes closed... till she found him. The setting sun shone through the orange glass of the Gesellchaft's eye, slanting down onto the floor and half covering the deep red cushion of the round bench wreathing the walls of the small, comfy lounge. He didn't acknowledge her presence, didn't make a move... just sat there, staring dully at nothing. The coffee cup in his hands was empty, simply hanging between the curved pincer-like hands of the servbot. He turned away as she eased closer... The fingers of her gloves darkened in the tears as she turned his face towards her. She knew just what to do- words weren't required here... His sobbing had echoed through the hallway, bouncing from the metal walls of the Gesellschaft.
"WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL??!? He DIED for god's sake!! You could AT LEAST try to HELP HIM HERE!" Miss Tron stood, her eyes slitted and teeth gritted hard as she stood, shaking in rage at the portal of the party hall. Her eyes swung glaring between one bot and the other, pinning each in place with a hard accusing stare. Shaking, the servbot's stared, held by her gaze. Each face, the expressions, however fixed, radiated a feeling of shame, their eyes glittering with guilt and unhappiness. Teasel blinked, his eyes glowing red as he slowly shook his head and said in a light, jovial voice. "Well- party ended- grab some grub and run off back to your stations! C'mon git!" herding a few servbots away from in front of him, he wandered on, looking to Tron with a strange look... the servbots, some still smiling, some ashamed, wandered on, filing out of the room and back to their workplaces.
Well anyway, love it or hate it, this IS a MML story. Yes this is a strange story and no, none of the char's are really mine, but rip anything off from here and I'll track you down and there will be much with the beating about the head and shoulders with large blunt objects. All things belong to their respective owners, such as Capcom and da like, and if you rip THEM off the violence will be terrible. And don't bother asking what the heck is wrong with my head, because brother (sister? other?) I don't have an answer for ya. Babu. But yer free to come over and laugh and throw rotten vegetable matter at sad_mudokon@hotmail.com -just keep the flames toasty and low. We don't need a bonfire here people.
Megaman Legends: Altered Destinies
Chapter 1: premeditated experimentation, and the disappointment of fair-weather friends
The sun shone down, blazing through the clear morning air; glorious in the early morning chill. The wind moved ever so slowly, rippling across the waving grass and flowing around the unknown figure standing still and lifeless under the shade of the tree. Leaning casually against the rough bark, he stood, face to the sky; the faint, jovial little flicker of wind teased at him, twirling the windblown locks of mouse brown hair into a comical halo around his face and sliding gently over the lacquer surface of his tarnished black armor. Shifting a little, he let his eyes slide away from the sky for the briefest of moments, abandoning his musing contemplation to glance down at the dark glint of it's surface. The sun glittered feebly, struggling to escape the black, oily stain across the dull metal. Slowly running a small, hand over the black sheen, he played a couple of fingers across the surface; not a mark of the old blue dared shine through. How it glowed. How it shone... it really was quite pretty. Stylish too. Shading his eyes from the blaring sun, he faced into the wind, slowly surveying the pristine landscape, glancing around for the darkened hull of a- there it is...
Shaded in the leaning nine o'clock shadow of a heavy pine, the squat Leopardo battle tank sat in the middle of the field, engine idling. Waves of exhaust ripple the air gently with hot fumes...
Facing away from him, the tank sat, surveying the grassy swath of ground in front of it. Unaware...
The dark form suddenly smiled... it wasn't a very nice smile. Pushing off from the tree in a faint pattering rain of pine needles, he moved towards the tank, his steps languid, like those of a stalking cat; confident, unconcerned. His thoughts drifted briefly as he walked, stalking along their own dark paths for the briefest of moments... was this what he was supposed to be? Was this part of it? Was he like this... was this really what he was? Pushing the errant musings aside, he continued onwards, letting the thoughts drift from his head as he surveyed the situation. The sensors would never pick him up, not from this angle... Narrowing his eyes, he slid silently forward, approaching the boxy back plating, closer and closer, till he was almost under the tank...
The rich black liquid steamed faintly as it poured from the meticulously polished thermos; the light glinting through it carried a strange, faintly disturbing color, the odd oily tint of too-old coffee. Dejectedly swirling the black aromatic stuff in the ceramic mug, the servbot sipped delicately at his rancid black coffee as he listened to he inspiring tones of Miss Tron's heated screaming tearing into someone or other over the tinny, disjointed tones of the radio. Sighing, he leaned forward, the chair making odd little squeaking noises as he retrieved the sugar container from the console before him, belatedly swatting a few grains from the metal with a reticent pincer. Grinding the spoon into the white stuff, he dolled another spoonful of sugar into the liquid (sixth scoop), swirling it gently till it had melted in, his face musing (as musing as a servbot's could conceivably be) and leaned back, letting out a long sigh...
~It might not help me remember. It was insane, and it was damn dangerous... but hey, it was fun...~ Smiling, Megaman shimmied a little farther under the tank. The grass beneath him smeared against his shoulder plates as he crushed it under his considerable weight, further soiling the black stain of his armor. The manic grin flared again as his hands found a panel, silently sliding it out of the way. ~I needed a distraction anyway...take my mind off things for a moment... a nice, relaxing activity to occupy me...~ grunting and straining, he shifted, forcing the end of his Mega buster into some very delicate wiring in the bowels of the tank, and let his eyes slide closed as the plasma began to gather...
The first jarring impact threw the little servbot around in his seat, tossing him bodily against the seat belt as the entire tank rocked with the first jarring explosion. Pincers fumbling, the mug tumbled free as he unclipped himself- his head met the command console with a horrid clanging crunch as the entire tank buckled under another blast. Eyes winced closed, he rubbed belatedly at the chip marring his facial paint, whimpering slightly in confusion. Weaving unsteadily as his vehicle quivered and shook, he made his way to the hatch, stumbling and leaning on the bulkheads and walls, a migraine already rooting itself firmly in his head...
Light. A horrible booming explosion and a sickening sense of vertigo tore haywire through the servbot's circuits as a startled wail tore itself from his throat. The sky danced with the ground, a waltz never-ending, each filling his vision as he flipped... he had a brief moment to wonder at the happenings that seemed to be going on around him as, below him, the grass shone with a crystalline perfection. Suddenly equilibrium became descent and the stalks rushed towards him, reached up to meet him, striking him punishingly in the face like a green fist.
~Oookay now.. I don't know precisely where I am but whoever just hit me with that train is REALLY gonna regret it...~ Small sounds leaked from the back of his throat as he lay there, his eyes firmly pressed closed as if no force on earth could convince them that perhaps looking around might be a bit of a good idea right now. Indistinguishable creaking buzzes of pain and broken machinery came out in one very unhappy groan as he shifted, his titanium body insisting that yes, he had indeed fallen through the crust of the earth and into some unknown hell. Shaking loose bits of grass and soil, the pulled himself to his feet, weaving and unsteady. Limbs shaking and malfunctioning, the servbot glanced up, one eye sporting a hairline crack right across the 'cornea'... ~great. blind and achy. Tanks Miss Tron can stand losing but she's really gonna tear into me about the contact lenses...oww. I didn't know EVERYTHING could hurt all at once...~ Unsteady and sick, he doubles over, pincers on his knees, breath choking in his metallic throat...
"I love fireworks first thing in the morning, don't you? ...not so impressive during the daylight hours but the smell of explosives sure wakes a fellow up in the morning..." Snapping his head up, the servbot froze, his face caught in a mask of horror. The black armored figure allowed himself a none too nice smile, his face covered in streaks of thick black oil, shining like blood in the sun... "OhmygodI'mgonnaDIE- MISS TRON!!! HEEIIII!!!!!"
Megaman laughed, his voice high and amused as he saw the little robot charge blindly away... A deep, unpleasant snicker rose in his throat as he followed behind it, slipping up beside it, easily matching the pathetic pace of the scrambling, short limbed little bot. Pacing it like a predator, he drew back his arm... his fist clenching. "Oh do stay for a bit of a chat... it's so nice to get aquainted, and on suuuuch a nice day too..."
The fist caught it in the jaw, rocking the head back as it fell, flopping helplessly a few times like a well kicked can, before rolling to rest against a hill. Megaman pounced, lunging closer, his foot flashing out in a black blur.
His foot snapped out, slamming solidly into the servbot's stomach, the little form curling around his armored shoe as he drove it brutally into the bright, cheery blue metal of the torso. The servbot gasped, near crying, the eyes wild as it heaved and sputtered, pulling itself to it's feet, making little distressing noises as it limped wretchedly away.
Megaman snickered, his eyes lit up with the game. He paced the small, frantic little robot, booting it around like a football. Finding a nearby tree, he happily set to work, seeing just how much of the servbot's face paint job he could scuff off on the hard bark, holding the muffled wailing little machine in both arms as he pushed as hard as he can. Struggling, the servbot wrenched itself out of his grasp, gasping as it hauled itself up onto a lower branch and out of reach, breath heaving.
Growling in annoyance, Megaman stalked around the tree, eyeing his prey with growing frustration. Hurrumphing, he ground his teeth, leaning against the trunk of the tree and looking up into the gloom of the branches. "Come on down little one... you're spoiling the fun so..."
Only harsh, choked panting, almost weeping, answered his call.
"Oh come on now... we were having such a good time. Sure you won't come down? Final warning..."
"Go... to- h-hell."
"!!-Why you little bastard..." Lips tight, he shook, his face carved deep with repugnant malice. Staring, he pursed his lips- then abruptly laughed. It wasn't a very nice laugh.
The first blast tore through the main two thirds of the trunk, the wood groaning in vegetable agony as the entire tree began to buckle and shake. The eerie, insane laughter continued, almost jovially, as he simply began blasting the tree to hot burning splinters, the canopy rapidly disintegrating under the deluge of hot plasma... At the cracking destruction of a particularly large limb, the small cheery colored form plummeted from the needlelike foliage, impacting the ground with a harsh, faintly reverberating clangor.
Trapped under the smoking remains of a branch half again the thickness of its body, it lay there, near tears as it's little pincers dug furloughs in the dirt. Struggling weakly, it didn't respond as Megaman approached it, kicking the wood free and planting his foot securely on the small robot's back, grinding it into the turf with preoccupied malice.
Megaman couldn't help the yawn came over him. Stretching a little, he sighted the sun, looking down at the shaking little form, half huddled under the punishing weight of his foot. "Whoop. Time's winding down, the morning falters into noon. The game has been fun. But like all things this game must end. And so, I'm afraid, must you..."
Reaching the grounded servbot, he bent, one hand caressing almost gently against it's shoulder as his other arm rises, firmly setting the business end of his buster gun to the little bot's head.
Feeling half dead, he hung limply in his captive's grip. The majority of his visual capacity gone, he barely knew where he was, a faint, warbling whimper fluttering in his throat. Massive, spreading cracks covered the glass enhancements of his eyes, blinding him. Long scrapes of shining metal glaring through the paint of his face like open wounds, he shook, turning blindly towards the brief pressure against his head. As the object settled almost comfortably against his forehead, he gasped faintly, feeling the first flickering tracers of warmth...
The plasma burst blinded it, obliterating the already heavily damaged corrective contact plates and burning out all the radiation sensors within the main corneas of the eyes. The glass blew out faintly, shattering in disturbing little hairline cracks. The blast washed across the servbot's face, blasting and mildly melting the titanium plating along the left side and tearing out a panel on it's shoulder. The burning plasma tore down the throat- allowing Megaman the convenience of not hearing the servbot scream.
It was still functioning. Megaman blinked, tilting his head, turning the mangled little bot this way and that with his blackened hand in almost childlike wonder... the mangled little body sucked in another breath, almost as if to helpfully confirm the fact to him. oh well. Running a hand through his mussed brown hair, he trailed oil and robotic circulatory fluids across his scalp, pausing a moment to contemplate his next actions. Surveying the wrecked little servbot for a moment, he paused, bracing it briefly against the boll of the ruined, smoking tree.
Working his fingers briefly along his side, he caressed the little seam along the left side of the little, scuffed up body, digging his fingers into the metal a little as he muttered. "There there now... just calm down... you're going to help out uncle Megaman, isn't that nice?" Straining, he tensed, his fingers digging into the loose panel on the servbot's side. Tearing the little bot open, he ripped off the front panel of it's body, slipping a few fingers inside the gaping wiring of the shuddering little thing and worked free a handful of energy capsules. Breaking one open on his boot, he smeared the faintly glowing orange energy across his face, the tingling energy soothing the faintly niggling burns garnered during the explosion. Tucking away the remaining capsules into a side compartment, he turned to go, prepared to drop the half dead little bot in a heap- then smiled as a sudden thought worked it's way into his mind ~hmmm... still alive. Perhaps this 'fun' need not end so soon after all...~
The sound of lapping water reaching his ears, he turned, hauling the dangling little carcass of wires and metal behind him.
Blinded, the wretched little form hung gutted over the stream, eyes not so much closed as utterly ruined, small flakes of glass falling from the scuffed and half melted face to plink delicately into the stream. The wind made a faint, mournful moaning noise as it slipped through the exposed metallic intestines, almost as if mourning the little form. It slowly teased along the pipes and tubing, chilling the metal wherever it was wetted from previously ingested liquids or the dripping, black mechanical blood. The little form was shaking, small sparks of energy causing the limbs to occasionally twitch feebly, the pincers clamped shut... unable to see, it merely hung there, the CPU regulator sensors working overtime to stem the tide of programmed artificial agony, and failing. Unable to breathe, the combustion unit began shutting down, the CPU fluttering... Internal... systems... not working...CPU losing... power...
Megaman smiled softly. Bent over the bridge, he held the little servbot over the clear, flowing water. Leaning in close, he breathed in a playful, soft tone "It's almost sad you know... sorry to be parting ways soooo soon, but I must be off- and so, sadly must you. Oh, and little fact for you- water and open machinery don't mix" as he casually opened his clenched fingers, releasing the burden with an almost kind smile etched across his face.
The water flooded every subsystem. Filling the open chest cavity, the liquid sloshed inside, the little body shivering as shocks sparked through internal subsystems no longer internal, jerking it as the electricity blazed and faded, only to flare again. A haze took the CPU's fading consciousness as the water flooded into the Servbot's mechanical brain, slowly draining off the last feeble vestiges of the life sustaining power. The last functioning recording of the servbot's dying eyes were of the hazy and water distorted image of Megaman grinning down at through the water, face stained and smeared with oil and blood...
Mind musing momentarily, Megaman pulled himself back up. Gathering a few scattered refractor shards off of the ground, he tucked them amidst the garnered capsules and set out across the grass. Not looking behind him, he paused, his mind running over the few events of the past ten minutes or so, a gentile distracted smile playing itself across his face as he moves off, gliding across the grass and into the woods, his eyes shadowed and thoughtful...
"No I don't know where the little guy is Tron... maybe he ducked out for a bit of a siesta you know? You have been working them a bit hard..." Backing away from the volatile little powder keg his sister had suddenly become, Teasel ducked, smoothing his hair nervously as her gaze suddenly swung around, fixing on his own with a very un-amused glare.
"Oh and I suppose I'm just supposed to let them laze around all day long? Let them go on their merry little ways wreaking who knows how much havoc? And besides... who gave him permission to just sneak off like that? Without me knowing what happened to him?? He could be in trouble, Teasel... I just have this terrible feeling in my gut..."
"Well that's easy to take care of, just don't eat anymore of #26's cooking-" He ducked out of the way as the ceramic mug stating "I love mischief" suddenly erupted into shards an inch from his head. Shaken a little more than he would like to admit, Teasel looked up, staring at his sister soberly...
"I'm-serious-Teasel. Something bad has happened. Just find him okay? ...please?"
Staring into his sister's eyes, he shook faintly, nodding his head...
Stepping around a few of the panicking servbots. Teasel bent down, pulling at the cord he had afixed to the dark shape under the water, dreading what he would find.... And, straining, pulled up the heap of smashed metal... the eyes staring blankly. Teasel jumped back, dropping the mangled remains onto the hard, rough wood of the bridge, watching in a kind of sickened curiosity as the little river eel worked it's way out of it's new home in the servbot's gaping stomach, flopping in the light before falling back into the river with a small 'plop'. Gritting his teeth at the rapidly increasing cries of "master Teeeisel!!!" that were rising in a gale from the gaggle of servbots milling around him, he could only shake his head. "...Glad Tron's not here. she'd fall apart at seeing one of her 'children' like this. This is... they even broke his contact lenses... that's..." the shock gripped his insides, turning them to water and his mind to a bloody haze. With the tip of his boot, he pushed the unsalvageable mangled little corpse back into the river, unable to handle it anymore, watching the water close over it. Numb, he turned, herding (browbeating) the gang of servbots back onto the airship hovering pristinely over the grass behind them.
"COME ON peoples! It's time to get the HECK out of here!!" looking on last time at the river, he shook his head, red glass eyes glinting once in a surreal flash before, turning, he climbed inside. The surface of the water rippled with the blast of air, marking their departure as the Drache dipped and hovered, rising above the Clozer Woods. Teasel merely stared, his eyes glued to the world outside the window, silent as stone.
"Um... Tron?"
"-Yes?" Turning, Tron glanced up from what she was doing, a smile on her face as she glanced up to her older brother. Her hands stilled, one rising to rub at an itch plauging her cheek, the gesture leading a line of smeared grease along her face.
Teasel fidgeted nervously, his mind buzzing through different ways to soften the blow. He hated bearing bad news. Tron wiped at the newly anointed grease on her face, further smearing across her cleanly complexion, and tilted her head, confused, at her brother.
"Teasel? What's this all about?"
"Tron? -They found one of your servbots out in the field."
"What the police?? Is he okay? they didn't arrest him or-"
"No no Tron... not the police- another servbot."
Tron stared for long seconds, her eyebrows eventually twisting in confused annoyance as she drawled out. "Aaaaaand? Where is this leading Teasel?"
"Tron. It's been deactivated. I didn't know what you wanted do-"
"Oh Teasel don't be silly. I'm sure he's just knocked out by one thing or another- maybe he got hit by a car. They do silly stuff like that." Dismissing the information, she bends once again to the piece of machinery she was working on- an almost completed servbot hull. It's cheery faceplate was done, sitting on a table, fresh wet stencil sitting nearby. Teasel fidgeted, running a hand over the flamboyantly frizzy gray crest of hair at the back of his head. His descending hand struck the table for just a moment- the wood bucked a little, the tip of the stencil sliding down across a section of the newly painted eye ring, smearing the still wet paint at the bottom. It kind of looked like tears- not a good sign of things to come. Momentarily allowing himself to be distracted, Teasel studied the metallic body, asking in a light, feinted calm. "Thinking of makin a few more servbots Tron?" Listening to her calm, happy reply, he could only shake his head.
"You should take something into account Tron. We're down a number-"
Tron's head lifted at the words, her eyes showing a hint of concern. "The- faceplate had taken a lot of damage... the paint nearly gone. One eye cracked... pretty bad. It's iris's were completely empty- freakiest things I've seen. Tron- it's frontal plate had been torn off. Wires sticking everywhere... we found it in the stream. He's gone, Tron. I... thought you should know..." Ending lamely, Teasel raised his eyes from his metallic boots, glancing up to Tron- who just stood there, staring at him. Her voice was rather eerie as she said in a low, quiet voice. "...where is he now?"
"I didn't know what you wanted- I pushed it back in the stream-" Teasel winced, expecting his fiery little sister to explode at him- but she was no longer facing him. Her eyes were glued to the metal wall- about a foot above the half completed servbot. "Teasel?"
"Mm Hmmn?"
"If you remember where... go back. And get hi- it. No- just- just retrieve the main CPU system- Okay? Got that? The little box in the head" Looking down, apparently staring at her toes, Tron was instead staring at the gaping head of the Servbot. She'd have answers... she told herself it was just for answers. Not because her stomach churned at the thought of one of her children 'dead'.
Teasel nodded, closing his eyes as he removed himself from the room and walked down the corridor, wreathed by a few silent servbots, somber for once in their lives. His hand clenched as he walked, eyes flashing. 'who would do that? Who would DO something like that?' A low growl issued forth from the tall, green brooding form as he slipped through a doorway, on his way to the bridge.
"Baabuu!!" Bon Bonne burbled happily in greeting as Teasel stepped silently through the darkened doorway of the bridge of the Gesellshaft, eyes on the floor. One glance at Teasel's face brought the strange, hulking robot up short, blinking slowly as he stared at his brother's disquieting mood. "baaahhbuu..."
The door opened. Tron slipped up besides her brother, followed by her own cloud of servbots trailing behind her through the automatic door.
"Be right back Tron. Promise. Quick trip in a Drache, there and back. We'll have him back soon Tron. Don't you worry yourself about that." Teasel held back a sniff as he looked down at his stone somber sister...
Her face suddenly twisted in anger, and strength. Gritting her teeth, her head whipped around and she said in a firm voice "Thanks Teasel! Be careful- but if you find out who did that to him give him a good one for me! Make him PAY!" her little glove clenched as she seethed, a small, angry pout taking her face. The mood shifted with that dramatic sentence, so strikingly that everyone just hung there for a moment, trying desperately to hold the seriousness...
Teasel laughed at the sudden change of mood, tousling his sister's hair in the way he knew she hated. Turning bright red, she swatted him, chasing him out of the bridge room, heavy footsteps and ridiculous, masculine giggles echoing down the hall as he headed for the Drache's hanger.
The grass whipped and rippled in the wind as the Drache slowly set to earth. Teasel poked his head out the doorway as the hatch opened, glancing around as the door turned ramp set to earth, forming a walkway from the entrance of the craft. Followed by a bevy of three wide eyed servbots (can their eyes even get wider? o_0) he stepped from the craft onto the waving grass, his bushy crest of hair bobbing this way and that as he glances around, hands on his hips. "Nobody here...hmm... looks like it's safe to venture out. Well c'mon everybody- lets get this over with."
"ROOOOOOGGGGEERRRRRRRR!!"(Chorused)
The bridge groaned, shifting with minute little buckling movements, the already nervous servbots staring around with their wide, unblinking eyes as Teasel circled them, calling out instructions, admonishments and other less than useless hollerings as he waved his arms animatedly and otherwise hindered things. "good good NO pull the left one- no don't let the line out YOU DUNDERHEADS good no now- NO!!! ARRGH!!" Servbots toppling and yelling with pathetic comedy, one tripping the other with a leadline till they were toppling like dominos, nearly dropping into the stream. Shaking his head, Teasel wandered in, threading his way around fallen servbots till he had reached the end of the rope. Grunting, he clenched, pulling as hard as he could...
Waving away milling servbots, he bent over the still, leaking form, watching the wood darken as the water flowed from the gaping titanium chassis of the... body. It was the only way he could describe the pathetic little thing. It was creepy... Shaking himself out of his musing, he tilted his head, looking the little form over... "In the head... In the head... well.... How does one get something like that out?" Staring... the explanation came to him, pulling a grimace from his mouth. Looking carefully around, he glanced this way and that, his eyes shadowed and his hair bobbing wildly. He nodded, not a servbot in immediate sight. Bushy eyebrows knitting, he turned back to the bot and, before any other servbots wandered into view, grabbed the rim of the chin, quickly ripping off the voicebox grill beneath. Thrusting a hand under the chin, he braced a foot against one of the 'underarms' and, straining, ripped the 'throat' out. Grimacing as he reached into the gory metallic remains, circulatory fluids coating his wrist and coursing down his arm, he felt around in the head, hands slippery with the synthetic fluids as his fingers scrabble across pipe and wire- till- he had it. Gripping the slippery metal box as best he could, he suddenly ripped back and down, his hand tearing the box from it's mooring- circuits hanging ,he holds it triumphantly over his head, grinning. "I GOT IT!" ... "um..." Smiling in embarrassment at the staring servbots, he quickly thrust the box behind him before coughing studiously. "Well- we got it- lets be running along now back to Miss Tron before someone unpleasant gets here..."
"Right!" they chorused, filing back into the small airship. Teasel turned for a moment. Staring down at the still little shape, lying open and forlorn on the bridge before him... "Now.. I can understand- how Tron feels... " Glancing back- he hesitated... then pushed the empty little bot back into the stream, sighing-
"Master Teasel! Hurry up master Teasel! It's time to go!" the beckoning servbot waved, hanging halfway out of the craft. Teasel nodded and followed, treading slowly up the gangplank before disappearing into the darkness of the craft.
The CPU clanged as it hit the metal table, spinning briefly before coming to rest. Tron stared at it. One eyebrow rose slightly as she raised her head... "...Teasel?" he looked to her. "-couldn't you have cleaned it first??" Giggling in embarrassment, Teasel straightened, running a hand over the back of his neck... then recoiled, a look of utter disgust on his face as he pulls his fluid slick hand from his skin, turning bright red. "Sorry Tron... I'm going to take a shower now- Bon's in command for a while- see you in a bit" He was gone before she could say anything... Quirking an eyebrow, her lip curled into a grin... that Teasel...
Turning back, she shooed the few servbots in the room out the door and locked it. Turning back, she stared over the equipment; the servbot form, it's head wide open, gaping forlornly. The CPU sitting serenely (and dirtily) on the metal table. Stretching, she suddenly clenched her hands- her fingeres crackled, popping satisfyingly as she stepped forward...
Teasel's hand, pushing open the door, suddenly pulled back- the spray of sparks pouring over his glove, startling him- the door swinging free. Tron looked up, pulling off her weilding mask as the door abruptly closed... Then opened, Teasel staring dazed as his nose flared red...Wincing and laughing, Tron led him into the room, leaning him silently against a tool table against the wall...
"Almost done... I guess, academically, with this we'll see if we can successfully reactivate a bot without memory loss... non academically? Well ... I don't want to just leave him sitting around. I couldn't just leave him like that. Cold and dead." She looked down, her face a shifting sea of hurt, at the still form of the newly made bot body. A hairline seam, it's top hot and glowing. The eyes were still empty, still deactivated; the same mindless emptiness the bot had worn in death. A faint shift took Tron's features, her eyes flaring briefly as she grappled the welding torch once again, raising it, menacing the air before her as she locks eyes with Teasel. "I'll just be done with the welding in half a second- just you wait and see! He'll be good as new! We'll have him back!"
Confused, Teasel stared at the lifeless face of the servbot on the table, it's body utterly limp and it's eyes empty "But who is 'him'? What's his number?" Teasel glanced over at the face... the smeared eye, paint dribbling down... still there. Pulling his attention from the eyes, he watched, wincing at the bright glare. "I took a look at the listings. Had to do a bit of calling. Everyone's accounted for. Save one. Servebot number eight. Name's Bink. He's a sniper. Sharpshooter. Accurate and quick. Tends to also go for gunner or pilot positions. Likes explosives and coffee... I think..." Teasel's long, incredulous whistle follows, his eyes wide and surprised. Looking a bit sheepish, Tron grinned as she bent back to her welding. "Hey... what can I say? I know my children."
Smiling, Tron pulled back, the welding laser shutting off... "There! Good as new! Better actually- gotten the practice of it- none of those structural flaws in the body THIS time! Heh- he doesn't even need contact lenses anymore! We'll teach em' to take out one of our own. Teasel! Throw the switch!" Tron's eyes glowed like a mad scientist, her hands clenched and eyes bright and burning as she leaned over the still little form... Humming, Teasel bent over and unceremoniously flipped the switch, smiling serenely...
Thoughts... Images... swirling- indistinct. Fighting- against shadow and tide, thick flowing water... thick as the black fluids running through his systems... head rushing, he heard, eons away a faint click...
His eyes snapped into focus, the light stabbing into his sensor shield. Wincing, he blinked several times, his body feeling more like lead then titanium. The rather disappointing blurry haze slowly sharpened, coalescing into... Miss Tron. staring in concern down at him.. A weak, watery smile lit his face. He coughed slightly, the sound tinny and odd in his new throat. Tron's face was a myriad of emotions as she bent over him, asking very softly.
"Hey now... feeling okay?"
"...yeah."
"...I'm glad."
"Oh n' Miss Tron? -I'm sorry about the tank. It blew up."
Tron's laugh was faint, shaky. Pressing her knuckles to her forehead, she shook a little, bending to help the small robot sit up.
Teasel's hand clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him from the table as he leaned over the bot, laughing.
"Well looks like your back!! Congratulations on coming back from the dead!! Come on!! We got you pizza!" Hauling the dazed, groggy confused little bot behind him, he tromped Bink down the hall, out the door. Tron shook her head, rubbing at the soot stains in her hair with a groan as she followed them...
She hugged him. It was all she could do. He hadn't said anything for almost a half hour, just leaning against her, in her arms. Tron's eyes were closed, her face drawn and her arms comforting as she rocked him, occasionally muttering comforting noises and holding him close. The party had seemed to go well save for one detail... they were afraid of him. They smiled, nodding, welcoming him back... but behind him, around him- the servbots directly out of his line of sight... stared. Just stood there and stared... as if they were waiting for something to happen- for demon wings to sprout or fire to flicker forth in his eyes. He had died. He was different now... no longer the innocent he had been before- he had changed. They didn't mean to ostracize him... They weren't trying to be mean...
He slipped out halfway through the party. Tron noticed it immediately. The emptiness of his presence coming to her almost before he was gone. She had always been able to keep track of each and every servbot in her presence, remembering their names perfectly, uncannily. Turning her head, she carefully tilted to avoid running the tip of her hair into a potted fern, warmly running her fingers over the servbot she had been spending time with and rose, producing an excuse and wandered away, towards the door to the parlor room...
It took few moments... almost as if by a sense of instinct (maternal instinct?) she had wandered, eyes closed... till she found him. The setting sun shone through the orange glass of the Gesellchaft's eye, slanting down onto the floor and half covering the deep red cushion of the round bench wreathing the walls of the small, comfy lounge. He didn't acknowledge her presence, didn't make a move... just sat there, staring dully at nothing. The coffee cup in his hands was empty, simply hanging between the curved pincer-like hands of the servbot. He turned away as she eased closer... The fingers of her gloves darkened in the tears as she turned his face towards her. She knew just what to do- words weren't required here... His sobbing had echoed through the hallway, bouncing from the metal walls of the Gesellschaft.
"WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL??!? He DIED for god's sake!! You could AT LEAST try to HELP HIM HERE!" Miss Tron stood, her eyes slitted and teeth gritted hard as she stood, shaking in rage at the portal of the party hall. Her eyes swung glaring between one bot and the other, pinning each in place with a hard accusing stare. Shaking, the servbot's stared, held by her gaze. Each face, the expressions, however fixed, radiated a feeling of shame, their eyes glittering with guilt and unhappiness. Teasel blinked, his eyes glowing red as he slowly shook his head and said in a light, jovial voice. "Well- party ended- grab some grub and run off back to your stations! C'mon git!" herding a few servbots away from in front of him, he wandered on, looking to Tron with a strange look... the servbots, some still smiling, some ashamed, wandered on, filing out of the room and back to their workplaces.
