ROCKMAN:EMOTION
part two:password
(8)
It didn't take long for the girl to fall unconscious, and as soon as she had, the robot reached around to punch a button on his wrist. A red glow surrounded them, almost blinding, but he was more than accustomed to it; the visor helped a little, too.
A moment later they were in a completely different setting, and one he would never again return to, had he the choice. He sniffed in disgust, wishing he had the liberty to switch off his olfactory sensors at will. The stone walls were caked with years' worth of mold, moss and lichens, while the metal grating of the floors beneath his feet offered a ridiculous contrast of red rust and blackened grime. He hated this place.
Resisting the urge to sigh, he hoisted the limp body of Sierra over one shoulder and started down the long hallway, which was littered with several mechanical lamps, most of them flickering on and off at random. Neglect was certainly an operative word to describe the entirety of the fortress, for its only living inhabitant had always busied himself with what he considered "more important matters." These days, such matters included constant yelling and ordering around his servants, and lots of grumbling and tinkering behind tightly closed doors.
He approached one pair of these doors now, gingerly shifting his charge and checking to make sure she was still out cold. She was. Good. Raising a boot to kick against the door, he ignored the curses from inside and waited, until finally it opened, the hinges creaking painfully in response.
"You have her?"
"No, I just picked up a random prostitute," he answered flatly, then allowing himself the smallest of smirks. "You like brunettes, right?"
"Fool! I have not the time for jokes!"
"Eeeasy Doc, go gulp down some coolant. Yes, I have her."
"Excellent!" anger quickly forgotten, the small man emerged to look over his prize. Thin except for a comically round belly, and bald save for a huge moustache and even larger tufts of hair that stuck out just above his ears, Dr. Albert Wily's beady black eyes narrowed as he rubbed two bony hands together gleefully. His lab coat, once white, was dirtied and stained from constant use in the lab; the most recent addition was a large spatter of what the robot guessed was motor oil across the left arm.
"Yes yes, very good…" he was muttering to himself, and the robot began to tap his foot on the floor grates impatiently. Hell, but he hated this man.
"You've done well, Blues. I'm only disappointed that you haven't brought her to me sooner!"
"…" He grit his teeth to keep from speaking, but continued the foot-tapping.
At last the old man seemed to be satisfied, and eagerly waved them off with one hand. "Throw her in the holding cell, my boy, and I'll deal with her later."
"…"
Wily turned around again. "What is the problem, Blues!"
"We don't have a holding cell."
Ah, but another smirk tugged at his mouth as the old doctor went red, starting at the neck and stopping at the top of his bald head. He could even see the veins pulsing at top speed at the temples.
"THEN MAKE ONE!" he shouted, slamming the lab doors shut behind him.
Knowing he was alone now, Blues allowed himself a chuckle, whistling a carefree tune as he turned on his heel, beginning the search for a "holding cell."
.o.o.o.
Honestly, he was lucky to come upon a storage closet a few corridors back. Not normally one to explore indoors or closed spaces, even sitting around in a place for too long agitated him immensely. His charge had thankfully remained out cold for the entirety of his trek; the last thing he needed was for her to wake up and make trouble.
Finally spotting a door, Blues headed towards it and kicked it open gently. It squeaked loudly, making him wince. At least we'll hear it if she tries to escape… A glance inside made him draw a breath of relief – it was empty, and had a sturdy lock.
"Well, the bus stops here, then." He gently set her on the floor, mouth set into a grim line. "I'm sorry about this, really." One hand reached for a small device on his belt, which he placed on one corner of the room. It whirred to life, a green light blinking twice before staying lit, and the robot looked one last time at the prisoner before leaving the room and locking it behind him.
.o.o.o.
Notes: A short chapter, but I hope it suffices for now! I'm trying to get past some writer's block on my Final Fantasy VII story… Anyway, I'd like to take a second to thank the reviewers thus far! You guys are great!
Next chapter: "The Cobra" – Blues is confronted by Forte, who suspects a hidden agenda. Are his actions in the best interest for everyone, or simply for himself?
