In regards to people anticipating the complete ownage version of Protoman, I'm not exactly sure if his character will grow to that point in this story, but then again maybe he will. I love the Protoman's badass streak as much as anyone else, but it's been done with just every fic based on him. The way I'm writing him up isn't necessarily OOC, but it's a different way to look at him.
With that
said I'll do my best to bring Protoman's awesomeness to light, but at
the right time. Until then, I hope you enjoy the chapter.
-
Chapter 3 - Make Me Invisible
Have I died? If that's the case, then it's pretty ironic since I've been granted with so much clarity. My name is Protoman. I was created by two men named Dr. Wily, and Dr. Light. For some reason I was something special to them. But I guess that's not an issue anymore being dead. Instead I have all the time in the world to think. Thinking about why I decided to run away, and why I was lucky enough to be attacked by two robots. Wait a minute, I'm a robot, how can I think while I'm dead? Oh man, am I just talking to myself?
The whispers echoing through the dark nothingness were nothing more than a conciousness fading back into the real world. Feelings of embarrasment had consumed him while he silently antagonized the unneccesary melodrama he narrated in his mind. In actuailty, the all encompassing voices were only his collective thoughts bouncing around in his own faded contemplation. He had eventually realized that he was regaining conciousness.
In spite of this, his subconcious monologue brought him answers to his who he was. His name was indeed Protoman as the two violent androids had announced. How he knew this he wasn't sure, but it most likely had something to do with the same programming and memory that allowed him to see the images of his past. The near-death experience somehow jarred open this previously closed door into his mind. It could have been the urgency of the situation, or maybe the fear of death that forced him into this realization.
Even with some of the answers, there still left more questions. Protoman didn't know where his home, -or more appropriately- his place of birth exactly was. While he knew the names of those that gave birth to him, he was still without purpose. All that was given to him by his creators was an unwanted sense of curiousity, a feeling of insecurity, and an ever growing sense of self-awareness of his own life. These traits manifested anxiety, fear, and dependancy. However, it seemed that the only people that knew him were looking to put him out of his misery.
With that thought Protoman had just remembered. Wasn't he in the middle of a fight with two robots? Well not much of a fight, he was being given the rag doll treatment. He could recall the feeling of being pounded into dust as if it were still happening to him. Strangely though, as he drifted into reality, the pain that radiated all over his body had dissapeared. The blistering sounds of conflict and battle were far off in the distance. For whatever reason, he found himself someplace new, and he was defenitely not complaining. Where he was however, was a completely different issue. In fact, he was caught up so much in his own head, he hadn't even opened his eyes.
Very slowly Protoman could feel his eyes begin to pry themselves ajar. He awoke to find himself lying down on a what seemed to be a moveable cot. Moving around, the squeeking of metal pieces that constructed the portable bed became audible. The room itself had very small dimensions, similar to that of a prison cell. But in contrast to that, the door leading outside was wide open. Nothing kept from just walking out the front exit that had been conveniently placed in front of him. Despite that, he felt no urgency to just set off from some unknown location, only to get further lost. Instead, his previous assault gave him a newfound appreciation for peace and quiet. He simply laid back down as he told himself, "Just a little bit longer."
His view from the bed he lay on up to the ceiling was unspeakably vivid, and the room was so bright he couldn't help but flinch a little from the illumination. There was defenitely something shady about this place. The white walls looked heavily eroded, as a corrosion of black mercilessly tore through them. There were no windows leading to the outside, instead just beaming flourescent lights, bright beyond necessity.
He lifted his arms up in order to place them behind his head, but then simultaneously became startled at the fact that both of them were working. The condition of his right arm had gone from previously incapacitated to fully functional. All of the internal alarms that he remembered ringing in his head were now gone, and his mind was no longer the bedlam of distress and panic it had been. He had obviously been repaired, by whom was the real mystery.
"Maybe those two robots felt bad after beating the crap out of me." A slight smile crept upon Protoman's face from his bit of sarcasm.
"Someone that can smile at their own near death experience must have an incredible sense of humor, or just a very strange one." The reply of a middle age man came from the doorway, and it caused Protoman to quickly sit up. In front of him stood the man that spoke, sporting a leather jacket with imitation fur outlining the borders.
"What I find even more fascinating is your ability to create independent statements without provocation or initiation, by simply accessing your memory. You're not an ordinary android now are you?" The tone of the man's voice changed to an innocent type of intrigue as he continued to stare at the figure of crimson juxtaposed on gray. Already defensive to the strange man standing before him, he didn't appreciate the way he was looking at him.
"Your fascination doesn't really help my comfort, so if you don't mind stop gawking at me like an art project."
"Oh of course. I apologize for my indecency, you musn't be very keen on all of the attention you seem to be receiving. Might I ask your name?"
Protoman hesitated slightly before answering the man. "Maybe you should tell me who you are first."
"Who me? I'm merely a curious doctor trying to spark up a conversation with a very interesting android." His cheeful manner didn't change Protoman's untrusting attitude.
"In that case, I'm merely a robot whose through with putting up with the curious. Both human and non-human."
The tension was grossly indefeinite. With all that Protoman had been through in the first few days of his short life, he felt it necessary to be blunt and to the point. It was obvious from his previous altercation that he had enemies for whatever reason. The self-proclaimed doctor had picked up on his disposition, and found it necessary to accustom to the wary robot.
"I'm sorry, my attitude is uncalled for. Honestly, I happened to be within the vicinity of your unfortunate turn of events."
"So, you were a witness to that?"
"Absolutely. Who do you think got you out of that situation in one piece?" Protoman gave the old man a stupified stare. "Well, who's gawking at who now?" A light chuckle followed his rhetorical question.
"Are you serious? You're the one that saved me?"
"You don't believe me?"
"More like I don't believe it. No offense old man, those machines weren't messing around, and you don't look very loaded for bare."
"Fortunately I don't need to be with this." From inside a pocket of his large leather jacket came a strange looking device. It was colored a very cloudy silver, with a hole sticking out the end of it. On the other end of the machine, there were a series of metal pieces that ran across the device, the design allowing it to be fastened securely on his arm.
"This mechanism allows me to summon pure energy in a highly destructive form. The yellow blast of light is capable of reducing even hardened titanium to shards of metal. Needless to say this is what kept both of us from getting killed."
Protoman was grateful that the old guy pointed "whatever the hell it was" towards the ground. He concluded that to be the source of the flash that he saw before blacking out, and judging from its description, it would be the last flash of light he would ever see if that thing fired at him.
The old man didn't continue speaking, leaving room for Protoman to say something, but instead followed an uncomfortable silence. Two complete strangers now stood between a wall of informality. As far as the still defensive android was concerned, there wasn't much to say. Despite that, Protoman was still able to muster some words.
"You're a doctor, a robotic engineer I guess?" The old man nodded in confirmation.
"In that case, I guess I should thank you. You did all of this right?" Protoman visually enhanced his question by waving his now functional right arm in front of the doctor's face.
"I did. However I don't think you should thank me just yet. Though I did repair your arm to the best of my abilities, I doubt your still in an optimal condition. Your design is unlike any other robot I've come across, because of that, any type of repairs I would do on you would probably not be complete. It would be in your best interest that you revise the repairs on your arm yourself."
"Myself? Look, I don't know what you think I'm capable of, but as of right now I can barely remember my first day alive. I highly doubt that I'll be able to do any kind of repairs on myself." Protoman swung his legs around as he completed his sentence, and slid off of the small bed, finally standing on his two feet once more. As he continued to rotate and revolved both of his arms, he could feel some inconsistencies between the two of them.
"You shouldn't worry. Every robot created acquires data that allows self-reparation. While your mind is that of a highly advanced processing computer, I'm assuming that it's still in its infancy. It's highly possible that your mind is still rebooting. You've been slowly regaining your memories, and incomplete data haven't you?" Protoman didn't disagree with the doctor's diagnosis.
"You will be fully able to completely access your memory in due time. Until then, just be patient, and make yourself at home here if you wish."
"You're really going out of your way to help me out here." Protoman was beginning to grow a bit more comfortable around the man, but an aura of mystery and suspicion remained. The kindness and compassion was unprovoked, and altruism was a concept far from his mind.
"I must be honest with you. I do have a slight agenda myself." The doctor's statement was somewhat coy, but the message got through to Protoman as he could see in his eyes the childlike intrigue he brought out in him.
"That's right, I'm fascinating."
"Please don't take it the wrong way. But you must realize by now, you're unique from any other robot that's ever been created."
"I do realize it. I also realize that this has also brought me nothing but trouble." Protoman started walking out of the room past the strange man, but then stopped in his tracks.
"Nonetheless, I appreciate your help. In regards to your first question, my name is Protoman." He looked at the doctor as he smiled to his answer. Protoman didn't return the smile, but instead acknowledged it with a nod.
"And you?"
"Dr. Emilio Torres."
-
The chapter title is from a lyric of a song by AFI called "Of Greetings and Goodbyes."
Character development is starting to take place. So is dialogue, hopefully I'm doing ok with that. This chapter I put the most time into obviously because of all of the revising I did to it. I want to my narration to be as high quality as possible.
The pace and progression of the story is going well as far as I'm concerned. I don't think this story will grow larger than ten chapters, the hard part will be making proper road map to the already decided conclusion I have for this story. I have many ideas to continue this overall universe outside of "Decisions," another short story like my first, and maybe longer books like this one. However it's best I don't get ahead of myself, I'll just go to sleep right now, lay out the foundation for Chapter 4.
Oh man, am I just talking to myself?