WX-78 shrunk down against the shelter of the tree. Resting an arm protectively over the large egg by its side, the robot began to drift off into sleep. Just then, a mass of logs and rocks crashed through the forest and across the clearing the android sat in. WX leapt up in surprise, double-taking. Charlie strolled into sight, her small hand covered by a (far larger) shadowy mass of claws. "Done. But I'm being serious now when I say I'm not helping you anymore."
"IT IS NOT "HELPING" ME, IT IS DOING ME A FAVOR. YOU OWED ME."
"Well it's kind of my job to hurt you, hon. I didn't have to do anything." She shook her dress of any dirt that might have been on it. "Your empathy thing might be broken, but I'm still human." WX-78 stared at her in bewilderment. That was none of her business! "WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT MY EMPATHY MODULE?" Charlie tilted her head. "I run this town too, y'know. I know everything Maxwell does. We're well aware that you're broken." WX-78 shot her a glare. "I AM NOT BROKEN! I DO NOT WANT THE EMPATHY MODULE, I DO NOT NEED IT!"
"Oh, you need it alright. I'm getting sick of you, we should have just taken the mime." She sulked, looking away. Of course she didn't mean that, she found the robot's stubborn attitude very entertaining…. only when she broke it. Nonetheless, a player this ignorant and easy to spook was quite charming. And any robot's cuter than the Canadian dolt that hit on me the last time we tried this. The thought of the unkempt woodsman made her scowl and shiver. That was one player Maxwell decided wasn't worth putting back together after a "tragic" and "sudden" hound attack.
"WHAT IS THIS MIME?" Charlie stiffened. "It's nothing." This earned her a familiar glare. "STOP KEEPING INFORMATION FROM ME," WX-78 pointed at her. "I DESERVE TO KNOW ABOUT THE MIME." She smirked, sitting back into another shadowy seat as the dark of dusk melted from her fingers. "I thought you knew everything." The automaton froze, clutching its fists. WX-78's mouth shut. Charlie blinked in surprise, staring at the robot expectantly. After a long silence, the robot croaked, "I DO."
"Apparently no-"
"I JUST FORGOT FOR A MINUTE!" WX-78 looked down, pressing a hand to its face. I AM OVERHEATING AND IT IS HER FAULT! SHE COULD HAVE PARADOXXED ME! While the robot was really just flushed in embarrassment, what Charlie had said wasn't anything close to a "paradox", and WX was in denial of the fact that it was, indeed, mortal and lacking knowledge of things. "Wow. I'll stop talking." She held back laughter, rising to her feet and sinking away. "THAT IS RIGHT. GO AWAY, PEASANT."
As the robot was about to turn around and start working with the materials Charlie had gathered, a large birch nut nailed it over the head. "I KNOW THAT IS YOU AS WELL!" it shouted angrily, pointing at the sky.
The automaton shakily lifted the logs and branches, leaning them against a tree in a crappy attempt to craft a shelter. It huffed, standing still and catching its breath. To its side was the bird egg, and just the sight of it made the robot's stomach growl. But the sheer size of it begged the question, how will WX cook the whole thing? Not to mention, if the entirety of the robot's weight could not so much as scratch the egg's shell, how would it go about breaking it? WX-78 raised a hand to its forehead to rub it, and felt something protruding from the metal. In a panic, the robot yanked the object out, squeaking. Inspecting it in its hands, the robot's face twisted into a look of genuine shock. It was a large, curved, black talon. "FOR THE LOVE OF HEPHAESTUS…" It looked back over to the egg and got a cheesy idea.
Driving the point of the talon into the shell, the robot's blow bounced back and it stumbled, falling onto its butt. "HOW WOULD A NESTLING EVEN BREAK OUT OF THIS STUPID ORGANIC ARMOR?" A burst of steam escaped WX-78's mouth as it exhaled in frustration. "HUMAN."
"Yes!" Charlie shouted, falling gracefully out of the tree above the automaton's head. "I REQUIRE ANOTHER FAVOR." Charlie lowered her gaze to the android, crossing her arms and biting the lip of her smug grin. "Already?" she teased, her voice dripping with mockery. Before the robot could bite back, she spoke first. "Why do I "owe" you this time?" WX-78's hand trailed down the back of its head. "BECAUSE… YOU TRAPPED ME HERE. IN THIS WORLD. YOU WILL ALWAYS OWE ME!" Charlie sneered. "I didn't trap you here, you're the damn moron that built the door and pulled the lever." She turned away from the robot, huffing. WX-78 muttered something under its breath and punched the egg, earning a large crack. Charlie stiffened, slowly turning her head to peek over her shoulder. "ARE YOU SERIOUS?" WX moaned at the egg, rolling it onto its side as its contents spilled.
"So what's special about it?" Maxwell uttered, raising his eyebrows at the impressive sketch of a bird. "It flies, but it can't walk." Charlie said, tapping her finger over it. "I see what you're trying to do, my dear assistant. But if it can fly, what's keeping it from chasing the player into oblivion? Tallbirds get tired because their bodies are compressed and their organs are small, but this… thing… is built like an avian athlete. Is it blind? I'm not sure if that's enough balancing." Charlie raised her hand to her chin. "Let's make its wings really big, so it can't fly into thick forests without crashing. It'll encourage the player to replant trees, too." Maxwell grunted in approval. "Very well." He placed a gloved and boney hand on the sheet of paper, pushing it away from him. "Any special quirks?" he asked, sitting back in his shadowy seat as the black tendrils reclaimed his wrists. Charlie hummed, leaning over the table of darkness. A shadowy hand scratched her head for her. "How about- no- Give me a second." Her eyes darted between the bird and its egg, and she shrugged. "I think I have something."
"Go on." Maxwell breathed, tapping the arm of the nightmare throne. "We'll test how dangerous it is on the robot, like we said. It'll be in the cooperative world, though. For more than one player. Let's say it's a special little gift for players fighting other players." Maxwell blinked, his cigar twitching in his mouth. He watched her expectantly. "Since the players are going to make a big habit of dying, they'll probably be willing to work with throwing their lives away to get what they want when they're resurrected by the jury-rigged portal. Let's say my "Bird of Paradise" only lays an egg once it's killed a player. It swallows them whole, like an owl," she continued, gesturing with her hands an owl swooping through the air. "Then their bones are broken down and become the egg shell. Then when they think they can just die and come back to run off with the egg and last longer with a little food, they won't be able to break it. It's thick and made of bones! The players with good equipment will be able to break the egg with a tool or something."
Maxwell chuckled. "Slow down! That's too much. How would the players know that the eggs are made of bones?" Charlie sighed. "The same way they'd know if tentacles were in a swamp or not. Looking. Let's have the bird cough up some bones after it eats a dead guy for a visual affect. And make sure teeth are noticeable in the shell. Only after it's killed someone, though." Maxwell smiled at her, a puff of smoke escaping his cold lips. "That's downright unpleasant. It still feels like too much, though." She circled around the nightmare throne, her hands behind her head. Leaning over Maxwell, she plucked the cigar from his mouth and took a long drag. Holding it in-between her fingers, she looked off into the dark as he shot her a tired look of annoyance. "Then scrap it. We've got all the time in the world, and I've been thinking a lot about this," she said, the smoke spilling from her black lipstick-stained mouth. "Charlie," Maxwell croaked. "And it's not every day that They let us do something like this, you know what I mean? I was gettin' sick of sulking around in the dark all day."
"Charlie."
"Not even being able to walk around in the afternoon with a sound mind was really upsetting. The time we tried leading the Canadian guy here didn't count, though. He drove me insane."
"Charlie!" Maxwell barked, and she whirled around, her dress spinning, swaying, and clinging back around her legs. "Yeah, hon?" she chirped. "My cigar, Charlie." She sniffed, mentally saying goodbye to it as she stuck it back into his mouth. "You poor man," she sighed. "Don't worry, Max. Once the tin can replaces you here, you can stretch your legs as long as you like-" She smiled, going silent for a moment as a black tendril burst through the stone ground and smashed into the gramophone by her feet. "-and not have to listen to that stupid song anymore. Ever." Maxwell sat still in his position, looking down at the ground by his feet. "Anglear and Charlie's Bird of Paradise," he echoed. Her eyelids lowered, her smile soft and quivering. "Yeah."
"Is that all?" He mumbled, an edge of sadness to his voice. Charlie bit back an unpleasant noise. "N-no, there's more. Always. I have so many ideas." I won't leave you yet. She took a deep breath. "Let's test the "Anglear" tonight. I know WX isn't ready, but I'll take care of it once it gets out of hand." Maxwell nodded. "Sounds good, pal."
WX-78 hurriedly scraped and dragged the smaller chunks of wood into a pile, opening its chest compartment and taking Willow's lighter out. Charlie grimaced. "Aren't your guts in there, hon?" she asked, squeezing one arm. "YES." WX replied, sheltering the small flame that licked at the sticks with its hand. "Doesn't that… hurt?" She shivered. WX-78 never failed to disgust and annoy her. "NOT REALLY." She rolled her eyes, sitting in the dirt and resting her head in her hand like a sleepy college student. Once the fire grew, WX-78 stepped away to examine the egg. Taking one of the shell shards off of the ground, WX dusted it off and used it to scoop up the bleeding egg whites. It tied the longer end of the shell to a stick and held it over the fire, high enough so that the flames could not reach the rope it had used to tie them with. Charlie's eyes met the robot's, full of boredom. "ARE YOU NOT IMPRESSED?"
"No, not really." She looked down at the ground. "YOUR FILTHY HUMAN EMOTIONS ARE SHOWING," it yapped. She mumbled something, her gaze unmoving. "DO YOU WISH TO CONVERSATE?" WX-78 sat down on a log, looking in her direction. She scratched her neck, her eyes trailing up to the fire. It's been a long while since she'd gotten to feel the warmth of one of those. "What does it feel like?"
"WHAT DOES WHAT FEEL LIKE?" WX-78 glanced at the egg it was cooking, balancing it better and adjusting its grip on the stick. "Being near a fire." WX-78 paused, conflicted. "I HAD FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOUR ORDEAL WITH LIGHT," it muttered, pushing its elbows into its knees as it sat forwards. "IT IS WARM, I GUESS." She groaned, her voice full of longing. "I've forgotten what that's like."
"THAT SUCKS." WX-78 spat, having grown bored of speaking. She stood up, shaking her dress of the dirt. "Yeah," she sighed. "I know."