signallxst

[signallxst]

It took everything from the bot to not start throwing stuff around (or at her), systems, sensing the sudden distress, blasted loudly about danger, warning It about an enemy within range (and It wished they would just shUT UP-).

Fist clenched, 'behave, stupid thing, behave', It wanted to take a deep breath and silence the whole world, even if just for a few seconds.

Even It Itself wasn't expecting such a violent reaction to a few words, It knew It was what could be called a loose cannon, but throwing valuable tools around in fir of anger and ruining all of the work - it was so careless, so stupid, so--

So human and childish.

So sickening. And pathetic.

It hid Its head in hands, elbows kitting the wooden workbench next to the poor victim of Its rage.

"Dᴏɴ'ᴛ..." If It could, It would grimace at the vibrations of Its own voicebox "Dᴏɴ'ᴛ..."

Don't... What? What was It even about to tell? Don't mock It? Don't humanize It?

"Dᴏɴ'ᴛ-" Don't, don't don't - Nothing but a broken recorder - don't don't don't - repeating the same thing over and over and over, not finishing a sentence.

Say it already.

"Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ."

"Knock knock, I've got some new wires from the factory."

-@pyro-loves-watermelons

Even before she stepped in to see the insides of Its one-room shelter, noticeable was the quietness. Almost no noise came from behind old walls - the scraping and knocking were absent now, replaced by a soft hum. Also the air. God this place always stunk like hell.

"Cᴏᴍᴇ" Was the only reply she got from the host.

Those who wouldn't expect to find the bot working, never truly knew It. Like always in Its shelter, Medi stood over other cracked-open medicbot propped up the work desk, in hands cables still connected to the responding bot. All quiet, focused as Its life depended on fixing this one.

The bot itself appeared at least partly functional - Its eyes light up, his head even slowly followed to look at Hugh, but on this ended every sight of life it showed.

Oh, and there was a small bird nested on Medi's nape, just sitting there, looking proudly.

[signallxst]

Bprrrrrrr-Bprrrrrr-Bprrrr...

It stayed perched on the window, mindlessly listening to the worn-down engine inside Its chest choke and split, signaling its need for maintenance.

It was... Calm?

A morning, the sun was slowly rising before Its eyes. It shifted, resting most of Its weight on one arm. It couldn't breathe, closest to a deep sigh was a short whim of fans, not exactly to cool down the machine, more like to... Push some... Fresh air inside.

When was the last time It saw a sunrise? It played around half-corrupt memory banks... Ah yes, this one time. The first and last time It saw a sunrise in enough peace to appreciate the beauty. It let Itself drop the guard and play the memory in high priority mode.

It was standing near one of the only windows not covered by boards. It was open wide - to let out gas from the broken tank before it could catch on fire from some straight spark. Every big machine used by them was deactivated as a safety measure - a lot like anyone would care about any of them, but losing so much firepower was looked down on by Herr Gray. It was quiet too, so quiet no one from outside would think this was an active factory.

In memory It turned Its head to the side, looking at Its brethren - mostly other medicbots, from really old O-5 who despite catching rust here and there was first one to force out-of-line bots back to their places, to unit-03120590, the newest (just after Itself) bot, with squeaky new parts and no experience yet. Not like It had much yet, they were from the same batch.

When It shifted Its gaze to the right, It could see a soldierbot picking up its non-existent nose, next to a demobot who just came in to get its eye repaired when the tank broke. Both of them shared the same patrol and tended to... Not use their heads... Most- All of the time.

Just next to them some poor bowman was bullied by a gang of other soldierbots into clearing the floor. The poor thing barely came from its own patrol and couldn't even report back. If it wasn't the only break It'd get in the nearest future It might help it a bit.

Far, far away, if one was to focus a bit, you could see a group of three scoutbots, throwing a can to each other. When asked they would say it is to 'keep their reactions sharp'. No one believed them, but as long as they were busy with not touching anything else, what was the harm.

Finally, It looked back out of the window. This factory was set near a forest, sun just-just raising, starting by painting the sky bright colors which pushed away faint stars, then came yellow spot, which grew and turned white as minutes went.

(Its memory was giving up on It in this very moment, the color of the sky wasn't clear from this point as no data of it was saved, as well as clouds were shifting around)

It all ended with the medicbot with the highest clearance coming through the door, signaling to start the machines again and return to work.

As the memory ended, Medicbot returned to starring at the early sky.

It was calm.

[signallxst]

It visibly shrunk as It was addressed, shoulders rising as high as they were built to be able. At least it seemed to rip It from the dark vision, based on how the bot jumped and rolled a bit. Its head snapped at him, arms tucked protectively to Its chest. Not like it helped in any way, since putting an end to this lucid nightmare just left room for awareness to set back in, brief surprise turning into anxiousness again.

"Bᴜᴛ I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ. Vʜᴀᴛ ᴜsᴇ ɪs ᴢᴇʀᴇ ғᴜʀ ᴀ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴄʙᴏᴛ ᴠʜᴏ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴘᴇʀғᴏʀᴍ ɪᴛs ʙᴀsɪᴄ ᴛᴀsᴋs? Iᴛs ʟɪᴋᴇ sᴄᴏᴜᴛʙᴏᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴜɴ, sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀʙᴏᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟɪғᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴄᴋᴇᴛ ʟᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴇʀ, ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ʙʟɪɴᴅ sɴɪᴘᴇʀʙᴏᴛ"

"Zʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ɴᴏ ʀᴇᴀsᴏɴ ғᴜʀ ᴀɴ ᴜsᴇʟᴇss ʙᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇ ғᴜɴᴄᴛɪᴏɴɪɴɢ, ɪᴛ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴘᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛs ᴏʀ ʙᴇ sᴇɴᴛ ғᴜʀ sᴄʀᴀᴘs." Whenever It spoke about a real life example or just recited a rule was left unknown. "I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄʜɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴢᴇ ʜɪɢʜᴇsᴛ sᴛᴀɴᴅᴀʀᴅs. Iғ ɴᴏᴛ, ᴢʜᴇʀᴇ's ɴᴏ ʀᴇᴀsᴏɴ ғᴜʀ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʏ. Nᴇᴡᴇʀ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʟs ᴄᴀɴ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴠᴏʀᴋ"

Just like It started, It stopped, cutting the rambling short. The flow of thoughts produces unfinished sentences. Oh, how pathetic It must have looked, fearsome machine reduced to shivering bucket of bolts.

"Bᴜᴛ ᴠᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ sᴜᴘᴘᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ. Hᴜᴍᴀɴs ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴜʀ ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇs, ᴢᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ʜᴏsᴛɪʟᴇ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ᴜs. Lᴇᴀᴠɪɴɢ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴʟʏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇs ᴜs ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴʏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. Nᴏʀ ᴀʟʟɪᴇs ᴏʀ sʜᴇʟᴛᴇʀ."

"I ᴠᴀs ɴᴏᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ."

Bringing bot to the repair shop wasn't hard - just painstakingly time-consuming, unit being able to move only so fast with additional weight and busted wheel. (It definitely should fix it soon. Parts were available, still there always was something in the way)

Medicbot already stabilized the shooter's oil levels and pathed most of the leaks (thanks to Py for these cans of oil. As for parts, well, there will be one more unrepairable bot buried in Its room). Still a long way to go, yet the first thing It wanted to do was to get him repaired just enough to activate the bot.

His state was way worse than what It expected after receiving the call (the main reason why It needed to drag him to Its shelter), and damage was clearly made by a third party.

If something was out there, free and actively hostile towards bots, it needed to be neutralized. For Its own peace and savety.

"Sɴɪᴘᴇʀʙᴏᴛ" It called, his head in Its causious hands, watching for any sign from the metal body.

It could just hope his internal sensors weren't damaged beyond working. Overwise It would need to shock him back to life, and after some experience from the factory, It would rather not.

[@ask-sniperbot]

[signallxst]

DEAR MEDI

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!

I'm giving you this nifty gun for Christmas, and I hope you'll enjoy it. Let the chaos roam on as the kids these days says!

The best of wishes, Pot :)

It watches in shame as the weapon is disposed in the safe-box, as per blog's policy, Its not officially allowed access to any ranged weapon for everyone's safety.

[signallxst]

"Happy holidays Unit, I've got you something!"

She holds out the gift wrapped in the blanket. It is rather light.

-Py

(If it decides to unwrap, its present is a spacious backpack that could make scavenging for parts a little easier regarding carrying capacity. A small "emergency kit" following a radio is tucked in one of the pockets in case it strands itself out there)

---------------

"I found a set of batteries at the Engineer's workshop. I think it might come in handy, Medicbot."

He places the stack at the workbench before turning to leave.

-Tone

"Vʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴢᴇsᴇ 'ʜᴏʟɪᴢᴇʏs' ᴀʀᴇ"

[signallxst]

"Cᴏᴡᴀʀᴅ"

A little more alerted, he place the last log on the campfire he set up. This brought humans some comfort, right? Perhaps it could ease his thoughts and worries.

[signallxst]

"Bᴏᴏ-Hᴏᴏ"

They're bullying me on discord...

[signallxst]

"Bᴏᴏ-Hᴏᴏ"

They're bullying me on discord...

[signallxst]

It didn't offer any thanks for the help. Was both too embarrassed and out of it to truly respond.

Of course he knew. Either saw it or she told him. It did bad. That was the bitter truth for It.

The bot took the can from sniperbot, Its natural coordination suffering greatly, as It needed to correct Itself twice, once almost dropping the damn thing. It threw them to a different box (it kinda looked like another one with spare parts, but it's better not to question the bot about its segregation skills), going out of Its way to avoid any eye contact with the other unit. It needed an explanation to why It did what It shouldn't do.

It was the main rule, one every bot was to obey, and It couldn't even do this. It was a bad, bad bot.

Medicbot packed all things that were laying around, even few of these that lay there for a long time now. There wasn't much though - the medicbot greatly preferred to keep Its place organized - and soon enough (too soon for the It's comfort) there was nothing more for to occupy bot's hands, which uselessly dangled by Its side.

"Aɴ ᴇʀʀᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ." It almost hissed, clenching and unclenching Its fingers as to receive any distracting stimuli. Saying such a thing was, most of the time, a death sentence.

It felt like under a spotlight, with the metal grinder's many teeth as the audience. A cold dread ran its clawed hand through Its back, catching on every cable it could. It was a pathetic excuse.

"I ᴠɪʟʟ ғɪx ɪᴛ sʜᴏʀᴛʟʏ-"

Bringing bot to the repair shop wasn't hard - just painstakingly time-consuming, unit being able to move only so fast with additional weight and busted wheel. (It definitely should fix it soon. Parts were available, still there always was something in the way)

Medicbot already stabilized the shooter's oil levels and pathed most of the leaks (thanks to Py for these cans of oil. As for parts, well, there will be one more unrepairable bot buried in Its room). Still a long way to go, yet the first thing It wanted to do was to get him repaired just enough to activate the bot.

His state was way worse than what It expected after receiving the call (the main reason why It needed to drag him to Its shelter), and damage was clearly made by a third party.

If something was out there, free and actively hostile towards bots, it needed to be neutralized. For Its own peace and savety.

"Sɴɪᴘᴇʀʙᴏᴛ" It called, his head in Its causious hands, watching for any sign from the metal body.

It could just hope his internal sensors weren't damaged beyond working. Overwise It would need to shock him back to life, and after some experience from the factory, It would rather not.

[@ask-sniperbot]

[signallxst]

It let her continue, as some point her voice becoming but a white noise to It (the realization didn't sit well with the unit. It should be aware.)

No. Not a poor thing. Neither of them were. They were nothing but tools. Machines build for nothing but war, to fight and be discarded. No, not a poor thing.

Neither were, are nor will ever be.

"Yᴏᴜ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɢᴏ." There was a shadow of something, lingering in Its tone. Uneasiness? Doubt? Disappointment? Anger?

It latched at tools and parts on workbench, gathering all of them in Its hands before throwing them into the closest box with enough force to cause them to bounce around. White noise-like purr of Its engine began to change into a desperate growl as It reached into Busted's open chest to rip off cables connecting processor with rest of its hardware. Bot barely had time to flinch its head at her before glow of its eyes dimmed to complete black.

"Gᴏ." The bot repeated Itself. Body rigid, not daring to look at her. Don't call it good. It wasn't. It shouldn't be good. It wasn't. It couldn't be. Being good was bad. It can't be bad. It can't be good. A thing shouldn't be good. A thing should stay as a thing. A good thing was no longer just a thing and it was terrifying-

Port 33981 >> {command} Connect to main database

Requesting connection to main database... Request Denied | code A-12. TR-

⠀

"LEAVE."

What was It doing.

"Knock knock, I've got some new wires from the factory."

-@pyro-loves-watermelons

Even before she stepped in to see the insides of Its one-room shelter, noticeable was the quietness. Almost no noise came from behind old walls - the scraping and knocking were absent now, replaced by a soft hum. Also the air. God this place always stunk like hell.

"Cᴏᴍᴇ" Was the only reply she got from the host.

Those who wouldn't expect to find the bot working, never truly knew It. Like always in Its shelter, Medi stood over other cracked-open medicbot propped up the work desk, in hands cables still connected to the responding bot. All quiet, focused as Its life depended on fixing this one.

The bot itself appeared at least partly functional - Its eyes light up, his head even slowly followed to look at Hugh, but on this ended every sight of life it showed.

Oh, and there was a small bird nested on Medi's nape, just sitting there, looking proudly.

[signallxst]

"Aʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴜʀᴇ ɪᴛ ᴠᴀs 'ᴊᴜsᴛ' ɪᴛ? Yᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʟɪᴋᴇ..." It stopped between screwing in the plate in place to look at him fully. "...sʜɪᴛ." Screwdriver stopped spinning as the screw lodged as deep as it could, and with all of them keeping metal together It backed a bit.

"Aɴᴅ ᴢᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴs ᴀʀᴇ ᴢᴇ ʀᴇᴀsᴏɴ ᴢʜᴇʀᴇ's ᴀɴᴏᴢʜᴇʀ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʟ ʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʜᴇʀᴇ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ғᴜʀ ᴘᴀʀᴛs ᴏɴʟʏ." How one can sound so upright and spit so much venom at once was a mystery the medicbot knew answer to. "Tʜɪɴᴋ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ɪᴛ"

At least it seemed mostly done, with it closing all the opened ports.

"Lᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ʀᴇsᴛ ғᴜʀ ᴀ ᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴏʀᴛ ɪᴛsᴇʟғ ᴏᴜᴛ. OR ɢᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇɴɢɪɴᴇᴇʀ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ. Tʜᴇʀᴇ's sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ғᴏʀᴇɪɢɴ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪɴsɪᴅᴇ ɪᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ᴍʏ sʏsᴛᴇᴍs ᴛɪᴄᴋ ᴢᴇ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ ᴡᴀʏ." It threw the rag at Tone, gathering tools to their places. It wasn't satisfied with Its work at all, and it was seen in bot's snappy movement. "Cʟᴇᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟғ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ."

And with it, Medi left him alone, just for a moment, enough to hide (throw in some corner) tools. Then It came back to gather empty oil cans, keeping the workplace clean was important, after all. Nothing unusual, just a bot cleaning its place.

That's it until It dropped one, escaping just before It could latch to it with Its fingers, just to crash on the floor, splattering what was left it in on the ground. With it Medi's disappointment in Itself was unmeasurable and Its day was ruined. It didn't even try to reach for it, knowing defeat was inevitable.

"Cᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ... Hᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ."

Bringing bot to the repair shop wasn't hard - just painstakingly time-consuming, unit being able to move only so fast with additional weight and busted wheel. (It definitely should fix it soon. Parts were available, still there always was something in the way)

Medicbot already stabilized the shooter's oil levels and pathed most of the leaks (thanks to Py for these cans of oil. As for parts, well, there will be one more unrepairable bot buried in Its room). Still a long way to go, yet the first thing It wanted to do was to get him repaired just enough to activate the bot.

His state was way worse than what It expected after receiving the call (the main reason why It needed to drag him to Its shelter), and damage was clearly made by a third party.

If something was out there, free and actively hostile towards bots, it needed to be neutralized. For Its own peace and savety.

"Sɴɪᴘᴇʀʙᴏᴛ" It called, his head in Its causious hands, watching for any sign from the metal body.

It could just hope his internal sensors weren't damaged beyond working. Overwise It would need to shock him back to life, and after some experience from the factory, It would rather not.

[@ask-sniperbot]

[signallxst]

Ah, good news. Great news. He didn't need additional help. A relief for the medicbot.

"Yᴇs, ʏᴇs. I ᴀᴍ ᴀʟsᴏ ᴜɴᴛʜʀɪʟʟᴇᴅ sᴇᴇɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ᴍʏ sʜᴇʟᴛᴇʀ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. Zʜɪs ᴠᴀs ᴢᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴢᴇ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ I'ᴠᴇ ʀᴇsᴘᴏɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇᴍᴇʀɢᴇɴᴄʏ ᴄᴀʟʟ. Yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟsᴏ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ, ʙʏ ᴢʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ." It sounded almost tired at Tone's comment. What a way to greet someone. No fuckin respect, worse than soldiers who just scream at you for no reason.

"Vᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀᴇғᴇʀ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴄʀɪᴛɪᴄᴀʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇ? Iғ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ Iᴛ's ɴᴏᴛ ᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴇʀʀɪᴛᴏʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏ ᴛᴏᴏʟs. Bᴇ ɢʀᴀᴛᴇғᴜʟ I ᴄᴀɴ ɢᴏ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴢʜɪs ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ." It turned Tone's head to the side to check one last thing, before letting him go unceremonially. It grabbed some old rag to wipe Its hands off the oil.

Tone would like to wipe his chin. And torso... ..It... was one of a messy job ok.

"Bᴜᴛ ʟᴇᴛ's ᴘᴜᴛ ᴏᴜʀ ǫᴜᴀʀʀᴇʟs ᴀsɪᴅᴇ, ɴᴏᴡ ᴢᴀᴛ I ɢᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀsɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. I ᴠᴏᴜʟᴅ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴠʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴀᴜsᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴠɪᴄᴛɪᴍ ᴏғ ᴢᴇ ᴍᴇᴛᴀʟ ɢʀɪɴᴅᴇʀ." There was again some venom in Its words at the end. Maybe uneasiness, maybe even a shadow of fear. Not easy to tell with Its unstable mental state

"Bᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ" It pulled some familiar-looking metal plate in brownish color from a box, and with it returned to the other bot again. "Iғ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's ᴀɴ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's ɴᴏ ᴜsᴇ sɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ."

Setting it aside, the bot pushed Tone's arm away "Hᴀɴᴅ ᴜᴘ" With cables pushed back into the bot, Medi began installing a new, undamaged panel on his side.

Bringing bot to the repair shop wasn't hard - just painstakingly time-consuming, unit being able to move only so fast with additional weight and busted wheel. (It definitely should fix it soon. Parts were available, still there always was something in the way)

Medicbot already stabilized the shooter's oil levels and pathed most of the leaks (thanks to Py for these cans of oil. As for parts, well, there will be one more unrepairable bot buried in Its room). Still a long way to go, yet the first thing It wanted to do was to get him repaired just enough to activate the bot.

His state was way worse than what It expected after receiving the call (the main reason why It needed to drag him to Its shelter), and damage was clearly made by a third party.

If something was out there, free and actively hostile towards bots, it needed to be neutralized. For Its own peace and savety.

"Sɴɪᴘᴇʀʙᴏᴛ" It called, his head in Its causious hands, watching for any sign from the metal body.

It could just hope his internal sensors weren't damaged beyond working. Overwise It would need to shock him back to life, and after some experience from the factory, It would rather not.

[@ask-sniperbot]

[signallxst]

It simply nodded, hand retuning to help the other in connecting the new wire.

"Yᴇsᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ 5AM. Iᴛ ᴠᴀs ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ ɴᴏɴғᴜɴᴄᴛɪᴏɴɪɴɢ, sʜᴇʟʟ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ʀᴇᴘᴀɪʀ. I ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴢᴇ ᴍᴏᴢᴇʀʙᴏᴀʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇssᴏʀ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ʙᴏᴅʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴢɪs" It moved busted's head to the side, letting it slowly return to staring at her. "Isᴛ ᴀᴢ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀs I ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ғɪx. Iᴛ ᴍᴜsᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴢᴇʀʙᴏᴀʀᴅ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪᴛ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴢᴇʀᴇ. Iᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀɴ ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴢʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪs ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴɪɴɢ."

It stood straight, (the bird on its cape stayed thought, defying the laws of physics). "Iғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇs, ᴠᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ᴇɪᴢʜᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ᴏʀ ᴅɪᴢᴀʀᴍ ɪᴛ, ᴀs ᴀ sᴀғᴇᴛʏ ᴍᴇᴀsᴜʀᴇ."

It turned to the window. Not like the dimmed light bothered it much, but there's one thing It wanted to ask.

Guess It will have to wait until It prepares mentally again.

A shame.

"Knock knock, I've got some new wires from the factory."

-@pyro-loves-watermelons

Even before she stepped in to see the insides of Its one-room shelter, noticeable was the quietness. Almost no noise came from behind old walls - the scraping and knocking were absent now, replaced by a soft hum. Also the air. God this place always stunk like hell.

"Cᴏᴍᴇ" Was the only reply she got from the host.

Those who wouldn't expect to find the bot working, never truly knew It. Like always in Its shelter, Medi stood over other cracked-open medicbot propped up the work desk, in hands cables still connected to the responding bot. All quiet, focused as Its life depended on fixing this one.

The bot itself appeared at least partly functional - Its eyes light up, his head even slowly followed to look at Hugh, but on this ended every sight of life it showed.

Oh, and there was a small bird nested on Medi's nape, just sitting there, looking proudly.

[signallxst]

Bringing bot to the repair shop wasn't hard - just painstakingly time-consuming, unit being able to move only so fast with additional weight and busted wheel. (It definitely should fix it soon. Parts were available, still there always was something in the way)

Medicbot already stabilized the shooter's oil levels and pathed most of the leaks (thanks to Py for these cans of oil. As for parts, well, there will be one more unrepairable bot buried in Its room). Still a long way to go, yet the first thing It wanted to do was to get him repaired just enough to activate the bot.

His state was way worse than what It expected after receiving the call (the main reason why It needed to drag him to Its shelter), and damage was clearly made by a third party.

If something was out there, free and actively hostile towards bots, it needed to be neutralized. For Its own peace and savety.

"Sɴɪᴘᴇʀʙᴏᴛ" It called, his head in Its causious hands, watching for any sign from the metal body.

It could just hope his internal sensors weren't damaged beyond working. Overwise It would need to shock him back to life, and after some experience from the factory, It would rather not.

[@ask-sniperbot]

[signallxst]

Cosmo Sheldrake - The Moss

"Well, legend has it that when the sunbeams come, all the plants they eat them with their leaves" "Well, legend has it that the world spins round on an axis of twenty-three degrees."

//Not exactly lyrics, more like the context and atmosphere the song has. Telling stories, fairy tales, and what-nots, while working on some machinery.//

Give me your character name and I'll tell you what song reminds me of our characters

[signallxst]

Regina Spektor - Two Birds

Two birds on a wire One tries to fly away And the other watches him close, from that wire He says he wants to as well But he is a liar.

Give me your character name and I'll tell you what song reminds me of our characters

[signallxst]

As she worked so did It, reaching deeper into the metal corpus, pulling out more hardware to the sunlight - some looked semi-new, some at first look seemed too damaged to work ever again. What It was not satisfied with, It threw away, somewhere on the floor.

It was nice to have someone around to make noise. Silence, no matter how much It wanted to pretend to, was too unusual for a simple factory bot. Room too big for something used to small space shared with others. A simple thing with simple needs.

...

"Iᴛ's ɴᴏᴛ, ᴢᴀᴛ ɪsᴛ ᴇɪɴᴇ Kʀɪᴇɢsᴍᴀsᴄʜɪɴᴇ"

She quickly found metal fingers brushing her shoulder as she approached "Dᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ. Vʜɪʟᴇ I ᴠᴀs ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇsᴛᴏʀᴇ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ғᴜʟʟ ғᴜɴᴄᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ ʏᴇᴛ, ɪᴛ ᴄᴀɴ ᴀᴄᴛ ʜᴏsᴛɪʟᴇ."

In some way, busted's unresponsive gaze seemed to both confirm and deny it.

"Knock knock, I've got some new wires from the factory."

-@pyro-loves-watermelons

Even before she stepped in to see the insides of Its one-room shelter, noticeable was the quietness. Almost no noise came from behind old walls - the scraping and knocking were absent now, replaced by a soft hum. Also the air. God this place always stunk like hell.

"Cᴏᴍᴇ" Was the only reply she got from the host.

Those who wouldn't expect to find the bot working, never truly knew It. Like always in Its shelter, Medi stood over other cracked-open medicbot propped up the work desk, in hands cables still connected to the responding bot. All quiet, focused as Its life depended on fixing this one.

The bot itself appeared at least partly functional - Its eyes light up, his head even slowly followed to look at Hugh, but on this ended every sight of life it showed.

Oh, and there was a small bird nested on Medi's nape, just sitting there, looking proudly.