While contemplating current options, the robot swiftly reacted to catch one of the drunkards.
"Thanksh man," the non-bot slurred before being picked up back onto his feet by his friends. The robot nodded in response. It seemed natural to do at this time.
Still, there were hundreds- nay, thousands of these non-bots around this area. The robot decided it needed to escape this area.
There didn't appear to be anything interesting any other direction save for through. That, and the source of the sonic boom had gone down this street. Perhaps the robot could get some current events information from this Sonic character. There was no way in hell the robot was going to ask organics consuming alcohol.
The robot pulled its hat down and continued its trek through the relatively crowded sidewalks. Odor sensors detected multiple variants of alcohol and fruit- and occasionally something rancid that reminded the robot of this one interrogation it had pulled off. The subject in particular had regurgitated after... well, it's better off not known.
The trek was not eventful. The robot kept its wits about, but otherwise stepped its way around non-bots, dodging groups and individuals. There were a few men begging for cash, but the robot didn't reply.
One of them shouted something derogatory- but it was unfamiliar to the curse words the robot knew. At this point, the robot figured that the phrase "Times have changed" would be a Captain Obvious statement.
Surprisingly, no one seemed to notice that upon close examination, the robot was in fact a robot.
"Hey wait a sec," one civilian said above the other conversations. The robot turned its head toward the source. One organic with a half-empty can appeared to be comically squinting at the robot.
"Don't I know ye from somewhere?" The organic asked as he approached the robot.
The best response at the moment was a simple shrug.
"Yeah, you kinda look like... uh... Sonic! Yeah, with that muzzle. What's with the shades? They look kinda cool."
By shades, the organic was referring to the robot's helmet- mostly concealed under the wide-brimmed hat. The muzzle itself was a dulled brown, and scruffy- like a relatively short beard. It was among the only parts that retained organic matter from roboticization... how many years ago?
"You know Sonic, right? Could you get his autograph?" The very very buzzed organic asked.
The robot replied "Actually... I've heard of him. I'm actually trying to find him." The robot paused, trying to think of a good excuse to get away from the organic while possibly getting valuable information. "Do you know where he lives?"
The organic had a relatively shocked expression. "You mean you don't know Sonic?"
"Is that a bad thing?" The robot asked.
"He's the World's fastest hedgehog, a real hero!"
Information regarding subject Sonic. Good. Now the robot just needed a location.
"Well... Again, I've got a problem, and from what I've heard, Sonic can definitely help. So where can I find him?"
"Anybody who's anybody would know. You don't get out much, do you?"
On the contrary, the robot had gone out too much. It didn't even remember how long ago it first left Robotropolis on its last assignment. The robot gave another shrug. Hopefully the organic would answer correctly.
"He usually hangs at the Thorndyke Mansion. Paparazzi's always there at some... at some..." The organic himself paused, apparently forgetting how to pronounce "point" or "time"
"Thanks," the robot replied, then hurriedly continued on. Fifteen more paces, and the street will be in the past.
"Thorn... dyke..." The robot shook its head as it continued walking. "What the hell kind of name was Thorndyke? Ah well, irrelevant. Residence, meaning "home" of sorts. The robot would need a map... or a street... more information required."
Paparazzi- what the Good Doc's nephew usually calls news reporters that stalk people for the sake of recording every aspect of a subject's life. Among other derogatory words was "Soulless pricks."
These were a different brand of organic creature entirely. Maybe Paparazzi meant something different entirely- No, wait. The organic described Paparazzi in a similar fashion as the Nephew did.
The robot hummed to itself as it continued walking. Must think logically: big city like this would require a map. No map station in sight like Robotropolis.
"Wait a sec, how did I remember Ssn... Sni... Damn, corrupted memory bits..." The robot made a note to run a full diagnostic once it had access to a computer capable of clearing said corruption.
Maybe one of these nearby well-lit buildings would have a map. The robot glanced up and down the road- which was pretty cluttered with vehicles coming to and from the drunkard-laden street. The robot bounded across the road, careful to avoid contact with any of the vehicles, before stopping on the other curb. The robot walked into the first building it saw.
It looked bigger on the outside. Maybe it was the shelves set in an orderly fashion and riddled with packaged goods. It didn't help that the drop ceiling looked rather worn-out.
"We plan to replace it next week," A voice came from the robot's left. The robot turned to see a bearded organic standing behind a counter a head shorter than the robot.
"Cool shades," the organic said.
"Thanks." The robot simply replied- still as confused as when the first organic said it. "Although I'm not sure what "shades" you're referring to."
"You're wearing them, aren't you?"
The robot paused with mouth half-open. It then shrugged and asked "You know where I can find a map?"
"I've got several here, yes." the organic replied.
"Could I use one? I'm trying to find a Thorndyke Residence."
"Thorndyke? You mean Sonic's place?" The organic's face lit up into a relatively cheerful one.
"Um... yeah," The robot replied.
"Why are you asking me where to find Sonic?"
"Well, the... the people down the street weren't exactly sober enough to give accurate directions."
"But everybody knows where Sonic lives. How does one random dude not know where Sonic lives?"
"I..." The robot had to shrug.
"I bet you're planning on something untoward at that place."
"I honestly cannot remember how long it's been since I was last here," the robot confessed.
"Amnesia?" The organic asked.
"Corrupted memory bits," The robot corrected.
"What?" He raised a brow. "You some kind of robot?"
The robot paused for a good two seconds. "Is that a bad thing?"
"Who are you?" The organic asked. The robot detected the organic's right arm moving- although the organic didn't try to show it.
"Classified," The robot automatically responded. "Apologies. Cannot break protocol."
"Well, do people call you anything?"
"Where I came from, they called me Stylus."
"Anything you can disclose?"
"I'm not sure I should."
"Come on man, it's not like you're being interrogated..."
A familiar-sounding sonic boom erupted from a distance, followed by more cheering.
"... Yet..."
