PoC: It is I, PenFullofChaos819, owner of this story and none of the non-OC characters within.
Silver: …
PoC: Hmm… A quiet crowd we've got here today. Hey Silv, where's Metal?
Silver: He left. He said he won't do commentary for a quitter.
PoC: Who said anything about quitting? Did you tell him I plan on picking up my slack very soon?
Silver: Yeah, but he wouldn't listen. I think he's worried about you.
PoC: … Is that so? Well then Silver, I have a job for you.
Silver: ?
PoC: You go and tell Metal TO GET HIS REFLECTIVE ARSE BACK HERE PRONTO! I know he's trying to bail out of his own pairing, and I'll be dammed if he thinks he can succeed that easily!
Silver: ? You two sure have a funny way of expressing concern for one another.
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Different
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A filthy mop and bucket were to be expected. Brooms and dust pans seemed rather mandatory. Even scouring on one's hands and knees didn't feel out of the question. Still in all, who knew this job called 'cleaning' could be so 'dirty'?
Only vaguely were these thoughts passing through the girl's head. Thinking alone was, in and of itself, a chore, considering the rigorous task at hand. It was all very well for the two slackers E-57 and E-69, for they had most of the essentials installed. The prototype, on the other hand, was forced to do the odious labor manually, which slowed much of her efforts down.
Then it occurred to her; why was the facility so laden with enhanced gizmos for training, but so vacant of the tools needed to properly wash up afterwards? It had possibly been their master's 'cheap streak' that was to blame, but no one dared voice this. Not only out of fear, but ambivalence as well. For as it turns out, cursing one's creator rarely makes work move faster.
This understanding in mind, Silvia continued to grind away at the charred stains. In her overly-sensitive ears, she could hear the other silly robots laughing and yammering without a care in the world. One of two things must've been the reason. One being all those years of doing the same job had eroded or melted their inner circuitry: The second, per Metal's explanation, was that some robots are just plain inferior and stupid. Either was viable, for who in their right head would consider laughing while scrubbing floors?
The rancid liquid on her skin made the chill complex that much colder. Though scorched black by the heat of the fire; the tile floor froze her fingers with every touch. Air circulating throughout the room was no added comfort to her exposed fur. Unwilling to admit it aloud, the girl silently wished her flames of destruction would return for the briefest moment, if only to give some warmth. Upon seeing the wrecked, and partially melted, piping in front of her, she dismissed that thought, and resumed her tireless efforts.
Having purified inch by inch every corner in sight, the girl took her supplies to another quadrant of the complex. It just so happened to be the same place where the disaster had started. Comprehending this, the prototype tossed her bucket load on the badly damaged ground. This time, she happily scrubbed with all her might, as if trying to erase all memories of the incident.
Sadly, the tarnished surface clawed at her eyes, causing them to mist, as flashbacks of her poor showing came flooding back. She hadn't meant to do what she did. It was an accident. It was, in her mind, the voices all mocking her that did this. Their poisonous barbs had pumped a burning rage into her veins; a rage that she could not control. When it reached a boiling point, she had to release it, on something or someone. Would it have been better if she had ravaged and demolished her accusers instead? Is that what the master would've wanted?
She didn't know. It was a moot point at this juncture anyway. That was then, this was now. She accepted that some things could never be undone. Many of her surroundings attested to that fact. The burnt floor, the melted generator, the punctured doll, the-
Her gaze stopped in shock. The doll, the very same doll she'd carved a hole through was still here. Why it hadn't been thrown out with all the others, she couldn't guess. Scooping it into her arms, another revelation came to her. This was the doll from her dream, the doll that she had found comfort in. Quickly checking to make sure no one was watching, Silvia wrapped her arms around the lifeless toy. Like in her dream, the helpless thing gave her a sense of love and comfort in her state of grief. Her eyes fluttered shut as she continued to hold the innocent thing in her warm embrace.
"Aww!" a voice echoed from behind "That's so darn sweet!"
A groan and the sound of metal hitting metal followed a second voice "Way to ruin the sentimental moment 69!"
"Ouch! Geez! I was just admiring the scene! Don't you remember having dolls to keep you company when you were sad?" was his surprising response.
Unsure if he'd hear him right E-57 asked in disgust "You…used to play with dolls?"
"Why are you two spying on me?" the two janitors turned to see a very flustered, very angry prototype staring them into submission. They kept dead silent for, unbeknownst to her; the two had a great fear/respect for her proven wrath.
Tossing a few strands of messy hair out of her eye, the girl took her gaze off them. Gathering up her supplies, she had defensively placed the doll in one of her empty buckets, and walked off. She was quite pleased once she'd left the bumbling nuisances in the dust. Distance, however, didn't stop her from picking up a few of their stray sentences.
"Now see what you did?" E-57 snapped and, for all she knew, stuck his partner again.
"Ow! You're the one that yelled and got her all mad!" 69 countered sharply. The remainder of the exchange was drowned in a swirl of grunts and gibberish; presumably meaning a fight had erupted.
Silvia paid them no mind. Her focus instead returned to the cute orange doll. Torn up and almost completely ruined, her mood dampened to see the poor thing in such dire straits.
"Maybe…" she whispered in secret "I could…repair it." shaking her head vigorously, she corrected "Him. Yes, he's definitely a 'him'."
Hugging her new friend one final time, she placed him back in his makeshift crib. Having something to look forward to (besides Metal's return) provided a much needed boost for the silver-furred enigma. With a reluctant, but growing smile, her spirits were now high enough to face the rest of the day.
"Now…" she sighed dreamily "To give him a name."
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*Aboard the Eggcraft*
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The heavy pulse of the ship' engines would've been an earache at any other given time. In Metal's case, however, the noisy throbbing provided the perfect excuse to ignore…basically all the voices in and outside his head. E-72's slithering briefing could make even Metal's hard composite skin crawl. He could only imagine the kind of day the master had been having when he made the pyromaniac.
"Eggman must've been bitten by a snake on a hot summer day." he mused whilst internally swearing off staring into his partner's manic eyes. Looking straight at the mad-bot struck him as bad move, considering how imbalanced 72's mental state was.
His idea seemed to be a success as the fire-breather's voice had died out. This left him with only his thoughts to reconcile with. Never in his craziest fantasies did Metal expect a few lingering memories to be more trouble than a living, or at very least physical, opponent. Each and every thought brought him a newfound concern for the girl he left behind.
"She's a vulnerable, short-wired fool." he assessed in his diminishing manner "Who knows what the boss will do to her while I'm gone."
Tripping and subconsciously face-planting on these masked concerns, Metal restated his opinion "There's nothing I can do about it. If she's to fail, let her fail. If she's to die, let her die. Why would I want to protect something so weak anyway?"
"Maybe because you've got the…" E-72 lit his flamethrower before finishing "Hots for her?
Feeling the sudden urge to smash his partner's head into his seat window, Metal deduced that he had, once more, spoken his private thoughts aloud. There was one consolation to be noted; at least he hadn't blabbed to Eggman. Orbot would've been just as terrible, when one considered his penchant for gossip. In all, he'd been remarkably lucky to have accidentally spilled his guts in front of the only loose-nut on board.
"Hee-hee! Soooo… You, O Lord Metal, have a tender spot in that stylish armor of yours." 72's voice hissed ominously "I can hardly blame you. She IS a little spit-fire, isn't she?"
The copy assumed that was 72 speak for 'she's quite a catch', but he couldn't be sure. Hoping to kill the creepy conversation fast, Metal acted as though the hot-head had never spoken. While his plan did work like a charm, it didn't release the doppelganger from a piercing set of eyes. Metal was almost sure looks couldn't kill, but that didn't make the gaze any easier to tolerate, especially when he imagined what the cracked 72 must've been thinking.
Praises seemed to ring out when 72 ended his minute-long stare-down. While graciously returning to his seat, the fire-bot said "Well what can I say? Accidents WILL happen! Hee-hee!"
Metal narrowed his own pupils at 72's sideways-comment. That had better not, for his sake, been a threat. The hedgehog knew too well how most would love to see E-72 die in an…accident. Letting his lethal temper cool for now, Metal renewed the wrestling match with his thoughts, which had not subsided after the brief distraction.
"I shouldn't let that asylum-reject get to me." he affirmed, keeping his own stability strong "But something doesn't make sense. If he's not a threat to me or the prototype, why do feel like ripping him apart when he threatens her? She could dispose of him just as easily as I could, so why worry?"
Faintly he could hear the pilot inform the two of the upcoming drop point. Though prompt in sitting up and giving his weapon systems a last minute check, Metal hadn't fully laid his thoughts to rest.
"Her problems and mine are different…aren't they?"
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End of Chapter Eleven
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I've finally updated! I really had no intention of stopping this last week, but what can I say? Life got in the way. Thankfully, I've presented this chapter in a more timely fashion.
Serenity: The delay sucks, I know. I want to continue this out of respect for your request. This chapter may be worse or better (depending on whether I'm a bit rusty or not), but I hope it satiates your need for a good update.
DanceDream: Out of hiding I have come! I can't say I'm ready to return to the other project yet, but I will be continuing this now. I know I'm taking forever, so even though you are a patient reader, I once again deeply regret the delay (on both stories). P.S. I eagerly await your new account (if I've said that already, send me a rotten tomato with your name on it XD).
Infamousplot: Bet I caught you off guard with this. I have updated at last, and I hope to keep it that way. I don't know how you would score this chapter, but feel free to offer your uninhibited criticism.
Super Shadix 520: I can't stay off a requested project, so here I am! Naturally, I hope this meets your standards for a good chapter. It's great to hear from you all again!
I understand if this delay is a cause for some distaste. Still, like it or hate it, I'm happy to hear from all of you!
Until next time!
