#Locksmith Becile

[ask-the-becile-boys]

I was thinking about how the Walter bots had raised generations of little Walters and how the Becile bots didn't have this opportunity. The closest thing was The Jack, in a sad, twisted and cruel way.

Do you have any thoughts on how they would have raised a kid?

Ohhhhh, y'know, it'd be easy to joke about how they'd be terrible influences and the most rowdy, trouble-inspiring set of uncles and aunt, but they'd probably be a mixed bag... They'd just stagger their bad ideas until the kids were older XD

Hare's squeamish around Human Oozes so he'd probably keep any babies at arm's length, literally. Once the kid was older he'd be teaching them card and coin tricks and how to steal from the adults, and then sneaking them out of the house, and you know you're gonna be getting your license soon, have you ever considered driving a get-away car. And of course if the kid was queer he'd be very supportive.

The Skull is 100% a disciplinarian and a snitch so that kid is going to do their homework. He'd be against Hare's influence in some ways, mostly in trying to point the kid away from stealing from other family members, and in doing so ends up a target for hi-jinks himself. The kid would not be scared of The Skull because he would not hurt them.

The Jack, well, assuming the timeline stays the same, he wouldn't be left alone with the kid a lot. In actuality he'd be more likely to run away from a crying child than to put them in any danger, but no-one trusts him at that point. Once the kid was older they'd probably get tasked with watching out for The Jack like Hare and The Skull were.

Dee was a mother in her past life, but there's only so much you can do from behind a closed door. She might offer advice to Hare when the kid starts to have complicated emotional problems, or talk through the door to them for short times.

Locksmith was locked up, but that's ok, because manipulation aside, the kid would find Locksmith borrrinnngggg.

Riker and Scratch don't super factor in here, but if they did... Riker probably isn't great with kids or teens and knows it, so while he wouldn't be mean, he'd be stand-offish. Scratch on the other hand is young enough to remember being a teen and would be friendly with them.

And Tatters would love the attention.

[wings-the-person]

* heres some playlists for the becile boys characters yayayyayayyayayayayayyayayyayayyayayaY

* teh 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

* har

sk 😁

👎

[oh-yeet-of-little-faith]

An attempt to cosplay every Becile. Still working on it, got Ignatius and BeeBop coming up next

Becile bots belong to @ask-the-becile-boys

[pojofi96]

There he is @ask-the-becile-boys

[amuseoffirebane]

I should be getting Dom discount tomorrow, and I will not rest until I get garbage boy stinkman the new apparel

[alreorem]

We couldn't resist the temptation to remake this Russian meme.

Dark humour. Not funny at all. Shame on us.

@ask-the-becile-boys

@ask-the-becile-boys

[almiofluid]

Yeah so..... Him.

Character belongs to @ask-the-becile-boys, I just enjoy drawing them boys for fun.

[darkshreaders]

RIP BECILE BOTS

they are now dead (according to the tags) as they’re rarely seen anymore (i will miss locksmith let his southern accent feel our faces with coal smoke) (seriously these guys need some more love t as they seem to be lacking it right now) i mean they are basically the Underfell to the undertale if you had to compare them as the evilish version of the happy giraffe group

[littledraga]

Becile Birthday!

It’s @ask-the-becile-boys 11th birthday for the AU! Had to do something special for it! Not sure if this is it, but it’s what I did! It’s late, it’s only half edited, have fun with that. :p Thanks for keeping these funky dudes alive!

Maybe it was a little weird for Scratch to give Tatters a little scratch post a month after Christmas. It wasn't like her claws needed it, but no one said anything. And Tatters did like beating it up and napping on top of it.

When he got Locksmith mustache wax at the end of March everyone was confused. No one more than Locksmith himself. It was left with a card with a cake covered in candles. Odd? But who was he to turn down such a thoughtful gift?

Dee screamed when someone other than Hare knocked on her door. She threw open the door, intent on clawing at whoever was there. Instead of a person, there was a box with a bright bow. Inside were old records and a little bear with a loud sweater. Holding the teddy close, she looked around before slamming the door hard enough that some walls shook. Jazz filled the halls while she slowly danced around with her new little friend. It made the stifling heat as summer crept closer a little more pleasant.

Later, when summer was fully on them, Hare caught Scratch wrapping something in the lounge, struggling with tape that had gotten stuck on his shirt. Turning around this way and that, more and more tape unrolled and he huffed behind the respirator.

Hare huffed a small laugh as he walked over to take the tape before Scratch became a mummy.

"Whatcha got there?" He asked, trying to look over Scratch over his shoulder.

At first, Scratch tried to cover it with his body before his shoulders slumped. Sitting up, he offered a small wrapped box to Hare.

"I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I guess a day early won't hurt," he signed.

Taking the box, Hare tilted his head, looking at it carefully. "What is it?"

Scratch laughed enough his shoulders shook.

"It's a present. For your birthday." He paused and tilted his head a little.

"Power day? Turn on day?" He signed, not really sure what to call it.

Smoke billowed out of his cheeks.

"Wha? You remember sometin' like dat?" Looking at the wrapping paper, he scrunched his good eye.

"Uh, thanks?" He said before tentatively opening the small box. Inside were three small locks. More confused, he looked at Scratch.

He looked confused and tugged at his sleeves a moment before he explained.

'It's a lock picking kit. I know you've been practicing. So I thought you'd like some new locks." It may have made him a little uncomfortable, but he didn't think of Hare as a bad person. And he did seem to actually enjoy picking locks, just because.

Hare grinned, at least as much as his faceplate would allow.

"Thanks! 'Priciated." Hare shuffled a little from foot to foot, not sure what to do. Another quick thanks and he hurried off to put his new locks in his room.

It wasn't long after that that Scratch came up to Jack, looking nervous and holding a bag behind his back.

Jack was in the garden, watching the birds and twirling a blade of grass between his fingers, enjoying the freedom now that Riker had fixed his wires.

He noticed Scratch's shadow first. Turning around, he smiled warmly up at him and hopped to his feet.

"Good morning, Scratch! It's good to see you." He paused when he saw how nervous he was. "Are you alright?"

Scratch stalled a moment before quickly holding the bag out in front of him. Waiting for Jack to take it with a confused look, he finally explained.

"I wasn't sure what you would like. I hope it's okay?"

Blond curls bounced while Jack tilted his head.

"Oh? I'm sure whatever it is, it's lovely." Digging into the bag, Jack pulled out a short top hat and a new bow. They were older, and it showed, but still in good condition. His face split into a wide grin.

"Oh! These are lovely! Thank you, Scratch!" Holding them to his chest, he did look a bit confused.

"But I'm afraid I don't know the occasion? Surely it's not so late in the year it's Christmas again, is it? I haven't gotten you anything."

Scratch laughed, though mostly his shoulders just shook.

"It's to celebrate another year, Jack. From when you powered on first. A birthday," he signed, smiling as much as his limited face would allow.

"Oh my! I had completely forgotten about that! Thank you, Scratch! This is very sweet." Something for his first birthday since he was repaired.

"You're welcome! I need to wrap Skull's now. Take care!" Waving him off, Scratch hurried off back inside.

By now, the manor had caught on to what he was doing. So a few days later when Skull saw him from the corner of his eye while he was taking a rare moment to relax and knit, he put his needles down.

"Hey, Skull." Scratch lifted up another bag.

"Happy birthday. Or um wake up day? Or?" He still didn't know what to call it.

Skull watched him for a moment, pretending not to notice the bag in Scratch's hand.

"Birthday is fine." It was a human thing anyway.

"Thanks," he huffed. But before he could pick up the needles again, there was a bag in his lap. Looking up, he saw Scratch looking at him expectantly. Smoke curled from his neck as he sighed.

Looking inside the bag, he carefully pulled out skeins in various colours and a new set of needles.

"I know you have some yarn already, but I thought you might like having some new colours," he explained.

Skull's face softened. Or at least as much as his faceplate would allow.

"Thank you. They're good colours. And I did need some new knitting needles. I appreciate it." When Scratch beamed, he laughed. Just a single chuckle.

"You've been busy."

Which made the man beam more. Or as much as he could.

"Everyone deserves something good on their birthday. It's important!" He enthusiastically signed.

"We always had big parties when I was growing up."

Skull hummed at that. He wasn't sure he remembered any kind of birthday celebration. Even when Thaddeus was alive there were no celebrations at the manor. Frivolous things he would call them. But Thaddeus wasn't here anymore.

Things were quiet, for a little while. Then Scratch took to the kitchen at the end of July. He was cooking up a large batch of chicken and dumplings and sides. Something that had the robots peeking around the corner.

Hare spoke up first, walking over to look over Scratch’s shoulder as the man seasoned some chicken in a pan with what looked like dough in a bowl.

“This doesn’t look like a smoothie,” said Hare while he tried to figure out what was going on.

Scratch stopped long enough to quickly sign.

“Chicken and dumplings. It’s Riker’s birthday. So I thought I’d make him something while he was down in the workshop.”

Hare looked at Skull, who was still at the doorway. He just shrugged.

“Looks like a lot of work for someone that just eats ramen. When he eats,” huffed Hare, moving when Skull gave him a hard look. It wasn’t like it was his fault!

“It’s his birthday,” explained Scratch simply.

“Everyone needs to have something nice on their birthday.” And he was back to cooking away, leaving the two to look confused. It wasn’t like they had a lot of experience with birthdays.

After too long in the workshop, trying to keep the tools from getting too rusted to use, Riker nearly cried when he saw a banquet set out just for him. Scratch had to push him into a seat to get him to eat.

“Man, this is better than Ma's from when I was a kid.” Riker suddenly stopped, spoon halfway to his face to glance at Scratch who was looking rather proud of himself.

“Don’t ever tell her I said that.” As if anyone here would likely meet her, but a man couldn’t be too sure.

Scratched crossed his fingers over his chest before putting away the leftovers. At least Riker would be eating real food for a couple days.

A week later, Riker found himself cornered in the workshop by three robots. Even if they, probably, wouldn’t hurt him, it was still unnerving. Crossing his arms over his chest and a cigarette hanging off his lip, he watched them, waiting for some explanation as to why they were ganging up on him. Jack broke first.

“What do you do for birthdays?” He asked and stepped into the room, careful to give the workbench as wide a birth as he could.

He grinned a little, just a smidge. “It’s about Scratch’s turn, ain’t it?”

Hare huffed and followed Jack in.

“Yeah, and we wanna know what yer ‘sposed to do for a birthday.”

Riker just shrugged.

“Been a while. Mostly a lot of drinking, but I don’t think Scratch would be real interested in that,” he told them as he put out his cigarette.

“I’ve heard that people like surprise parties. Do you know about those?” inquired Jack innocently enough.

A brief memory and Riker shuddered. A surprise of people, never something he wanted. When the other three looked at him with concern, he quickly brushed them off.

“A surprise birthday party would mean keeping him out of the manor or at least part of it. Guess this place is plenty big enough. Normally they decorate the room, have cake and presents, and do stuff the birthday person likes,” he explained.

Tapping his chin, Skull thought that over for a moment. Smoke curled from his neck vents as he started to plan.

“Cake wouldn’t be a good idea. Scratch can’t eat it,” he reminded them.

When Hare shoved his hands into his pockets, pretending not to pout, Riker tried not to laugh.

“Probably a bad idea,” he agreed.

“But they have ice cream too. Could probably make him a shake?” he offered, leaning against one of the tables.

Skull looked up at that.

“There’s probably some kind of birthday milkshake. I’m sure I can find something.” With his mission decided, Skull made his way back upstairs.

“Well, that’s one thing settled,” huffed Hare, still looking sour.

“We could decorate the lounge?” offered Jack with a smile.

“We’ve seen movies. I bet we could do something spectacular!” When Hare perked up a little, Jack’s smile grew. Taking Hare’s arm, he gently tugged Hare away They had planning to do.

But at the door, Hare turned to look at Riker, pointing a gloved hand at him.

“We’ll get it planned, but you gotta keep him busy for a while, got it?”

Riker rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll tell him I need to check his leg or somethin’. Now get goin’. I need a drink.” he muttered as they all left. There was plenty to do.

It was hot when Scratch’s birthday came around, it was easy to get him down to the workshop for a look over. At least it was cooler in the basement levels.

“I haven’t been having any more trouble than normal,” he explained while Riker was looking the knee over. It may have been a cover, but it didn’t hurt to look while he had the chance.

“That’s good. Everythin’ looks fine. I just want to make sure I ain’t missin’ somethin’,” he explained. Eventually, Scratch got a clean bill of health. Or at least the machine part of him did. There was no way anything ‘living’ was going to be healthy here. But still, Riker kept looking. At least until he heard three bangs on the floor above him.

“Looks like you’re right as rain!” He sarcastically cheered as he backed up to let Scratch get to his feet as he put his tools away.

“Why don’t we head up and get something to drink? Should be something cold in the fridge.”

Scratch nodded and would wait for Riker.

“Wish I could eat popsicles,” he signed while they walked.

“Used to be the best part of summer.”

“Ya know, that does sound pretty good,” he agreed as they walked.

“But I can think of something better.” As Scratch looked to him for an answer, Riker stepped into the lounge and waited for him.

Inside was a messy banner that had ripped in three places when they tried to hang it up. A few messily wrapped boxes sat on the coffee table as well as two oversized shakes covered in tiny sprinkles.

Everyone, save Dee, who refused to come downstairs, was waiting for him. Jack was smiling brightly.

“Happy Birthday!” They all said at once, some with more enthusiasm than others.

Scratch stood still, looking at everything. His remaining eye teared up.

“Thank you,” he signed once, twice, and again, and again. There was static from the vent. It was hard to tell if it was laughter or a sob.

Skull stepped over with his gift, handing it to Scratch.

“You told us birthdays were important,” he reminded him as he pressed the wrapping paper into his hand. Inside was a box set to an anime Scratch had been talking about.

Scratch took his time with each gift, gushing with everyone. Even Locksmith was at least, mostly, agreeable for the party. He’d be up late with his new anime and shipping on yet another birthday cake shake. Best birthday.

[ask-the-becile-boys]

how would an interaction between Hatchworth and Locksmith go? I’m very curious how the two would react to one another!!

Hatchworth cheerfully made Locksmith's life Hell!

There's also this.

[ask-the-becile-boys-vf]

Link to original

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Directions

[ask-the-fanbots]

Family?

A fic between Coil (mine) and the Becile Boys and Mr. Weed (@ask-the-becile-boys)

Words: 2.4K

TW: malfunction, loss of fingers

    Hare was squatted in the alleyway, watching with only slight distress as The Jack gnawed on something inedible. Did he know what it was? No. Did he care? ...yeah. More than he'd like to admit.

    "Hey, c'mon Jacky, spit that out. Weed'll blow a gasket if he has to fix yer jaw again this week." He tried to coax the object--now identified as a brick torn from the building--from his mouth with little success. "Ow!" He hissed, inspecting the damage to his fingers. Still intact, so whatever. It was...probably time to bring Jack home.

    "Dnuor dna dnuor eht yrrebllum hsub--" He trailed off into cackling as he was gently hauled to his feet, spinning a few circles before springing up in an impressively high jump and stomping back onto the ground.

    "Ya don't say?" Hare offered casually, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he strolled alongside the giggling bot. "When we get back I'll--hey!"

    The Jack seemed to have decided he was tired of talking, because he began sprinting off without waiting on Hare to follow. The sound of his laughter drifted further off, his legs devouring the terrain ahead of him with all the gusto of an Olympian.

    "Hey, c'mon, why you gotta do this today!? We were doin' real well!" He huffed, arms pumping in rhythm with his admittedly pathetic strides. He wasn't anywhere near as fast as Jacky, but he could always hold onto the hope that the escaped kid would fall or something else'd slow him down, otherwise he'd have to try and drag Weed and the other guys out onto a Jack-hunt.

    Up ahead of him, the distant laughter cut off suddenly, replaced with a blood curdling shriek.

    "Jacky!?" Hare found a sudden reserve of speed, running faster than he'd ever gone before. It wasn't happening. Whatever he was afraid of wasn't happening! His thoughts tangled together into a web of helpless anxiety as he barreled around the corner, the manor coming into view. There he was! What was--?

    "--get off! Where'd you even come from!?" The voice was unfamiliar, as was the streak of dirty metallic grey covered by The Jack's writhing form.

    "The rocks! A lady from the floor! A candy man! The green took the lady!" The Jack was screaming as if his life depended on it, snippets of words in between snapping his jaws at the person he had pressed against the stairs.

    "What the Hell is happening out here!?" The Skull stepped out before Hare arrived, and instantly The Jack scrambled backwards, ramming headfirst into his brother. "Get outta here!" One fluid motion was all it took to haul the other person to their feet--a bot, no doubt, and a girl by the looks of it. "Hare. What happened here?"

    "We were on a walk an' he took off! Who's this?" He gestured wildly at the intruder on the steps, trying to size her up enough to get any kind of read on her and why she was here. Other bots weren't terribly uncommon to see, but ones turning up on the goddamn doorstep were.

    "Becile." She said, looking between them in a mixture of anger, disgust, and...well, a bit of hope. "He...y'know, made you?"

    "Go." The Skull shoved her back towards the street, taking another step forward before Hare waved a hand in a vague gesture to wait just a second. He shook his head, slamming the door on his way back inside. He'd have to go tell Locksmith, see if he could stop being useless just long enough to get the girl outta here. He may have been the enforcer, but if those piles of scrap metal wanted to hang around they had to do something every now and again.

    As soon as he knew Jacky was situated, Hare grabbed both he and the new lady and dragged the both of them inside. "Alright, sweetcheeks, let's talk. Why're you askin' about Pops?"

    "I was gonna ask if you couldn't see the family resemblance but thank God I ain't as ugly as you." She replied with a sneer, gesturing towards his face. Both were endowed with pointed teeth, though the woman’s were in her mouth, and between the pair of them that only managed to scrape together two eyes.

    "Wha--I ain't ugly!" Hare sputtered before leaning forward with a growl. "And you ain't family."

    The Skull pushed the two of them apart with a grimace. "We know all about his ugly mug. What we don't know is why the Hell you think you're one of us. Get talkin' or I'll throw you out whether they try to stop me or not."

    "Friendly bunch." She said flatly, crossing her arms over her chest as she tried to gather her thoughts into a sensible order. "Name's Coil." She paised briefly for a reaction, but upon receiving little more than slightly angrier scowls she continued. "Green core bot."

    "...yeah? And? Chrissakes, we're gonna be rusted over before ya finish the story." Hare plunked himself down into a moth-eaten armchair, resting his chin on his fist and looking at Coil in the same manner an impatient child would look at its mother.

    A throat cleared, and the attention shifted over to the source. Locksmith was standing off to the side, fingertips drumming over the cane in his hands. "If I may interject. You claim to be our relative, and this may well be the case, but have you any evidence to substantiate this? Are we to trust you at your word? This is--how do I put it--you would be far from the first ruffian claiming to share our lineage, if one is bold enough to call it that. How do you intend to put our troubled minds at ease? Proof, as it were, is what we'd ask you to furnish us with."

    "You all see if you can keep from dyin' for the next few minutes. I'm gettin' Weed and seein' if he can sort this out. If Pops made her there'd be some kind o' mark or somethin' to tell us." Hare rose from his chair, grabbing The Jack by under the arm to lead him off. "You too, Jacky."

    After earlier he didn't feel confident that Jacky wouldn't tear the gal apart before he got a chance to get back. A couple of her fingers were already severed, and they didn't need anything else going on at the moment. That's what he told himself, at least. Truthfully he needed a walk. Somewhere to go so he could think while he got there. Pops had been a less than honest guy, but there was no way he made another entire lady without them knowing, right? Right.

    But…

    She was just as soot-covered and banged up as the rest of them, and there was somethin' that didn't sit right when he looked at her. Something too familiar.

    "Oi, Weed! Open up." Hare banged on the door with his fist, earning a growl from within. "I'm not takin' no for an answer, 's important, so get yer ass out here."

    The door cracked open, a disheveled looking Riker peering through it. "Someone better be dying, and at this point I might let 'em for a little peace around here." He smelled of alcohol, deep bruise-like shadows beneath the one eye that was visible. That wasn't unusual for him, of course, but geez he looked like--...well, not great.

    "We got a situation." Hare inched closer, looking uncharacteristically nervous. He was smooth as silk. Cool as a cucumber. Nothing ever bothered him, naturally. As the tough leader an' all that it was his job to keep it together.

    Riker looked slightly more interested, but it was hard to tell with him. One brow arched almost imperceptibly higher. "What kind? I--Jesus, whose fingers are those? Who did he bite this time?" This earned a genuine reaction from him as he opened the door fully to look at the pair of tin cans that blocked his doorway.

    "Well that's the thing if you'd let me get there. We got a lady." The bot gestured vaguely, as if the weak attempt at charades would make things more clear.

    "A...lady." The engineer echoed, not any closer to understanding the situation than before.

    "A lady!" Jack confirmed, the high pitched giggles bubbling up through him against his will. "A lady from the rocks, a lady from the ground, a lady in the foyer who can't make a sound!" He sang before breaking down into hysterical laughter and snapping playfully in Weed's direction.

    "..."kay, what does that mean?" He didn't look pleased, but grabbed his tools nonetheless. If he didn't return some fingers his ass was on the line, too, and there was no way he could afford some kind of lawsuit for destruction of property or whatever they'd get charged with. Criminal proceedings were the last thing they all needed.

    "She--"

    "HEY! GET BACK HERE, YA LITTLE RAT! SHE'S YOUR PROBLEM!' Skully's booming voice echoed across the manor, and Hare cursed under his breath.

    "C'mon, I'll just show ya. Jacky? Wanna come with or head to yer room?" His hands found their way around the arm of the shaking bot, opting to guide him to his room and make sure he was secure before hustling back towards the door. "What's the--I WAS ONLY GONE A COUPLE O' MINUTES!"

    The Skull and Locksmith were standing beside the still form of Coil, the latter leaving a much wider berth. "She's your problem now. If she breaks anything it's on you. Get some answers." The Skull left with that, strolling briskly towards his own space. He didn't want her here, but he did wanna know what connection she had to the old man, if any.

    "We do seem to be in a predicament. While I can't say she's charming company, we are owed the full story, and the only one who can provide us with any insight is inactive on our flooring. A tapestry of tongues can't be woven by the mute, so I suggest our roboticist begins his work before much more time slips past us." Locksmith remained stationary, as he needn't provide them with any further room. They had ample space to operate, so for now he would observe the proceedings. Should the time come when he had to relocate, he would gladly cede further floorspace to them.

    "What do I look like, a dancing monkey? Why should I work on a bot I'm not in charge of? It’d be easier to scrap her." Despite his words, he was already kneeling to look her over. What exactly was the protocol on working on someone that wasn't yours? Especially one of the lady ones? And especially one that couldn't give him permission to take a look under the hood, so to speak?

    "She said Pops built her. Just take a look or somethin', will ya? Wake her up so we can ask ‘er a few things." Hare squatted beside Weed, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked her over. She did have the shoddy workmanship of Pops's hands, but that didn't mean much. He was overthinking this.

    "Fine, fine." Riker grumbled, undoing the buttons on the back of the dress. "You owe me, though. Next time I tell you I'm takin' a sick day, I'm taking it. No emergency repairs, no whining at the door, no nothing."

    "Yeah, sounds great. Do your thing, o mighty roboticist." Hare's tone was mocking, but there was no denying that Weed was good at his job. His ma had taught him well, apparently.

    It didn't take long before Riker was popping open an access panel, and he tossed it aside onto the carpet. "Geez! What's going on in here?" He turned aside, sneezing openly toward the rug.

    Locksmith looked utterly repulsed by this decision but held his tongue. He fished through his pocket, extending a handkerchief to the resident engineer. "Bless you, Mr. Weed. I take it our companion's interior is a bit... antiquated."

    "No kidding! When was the last time someone opened this up!?" He ignored the offer, swiping at his pointed nose with his knuckles. There was a thick layer of dust built up on every surface in the little panel, clogging everything and muffling the sound of the things that did still work. "I don't know what the last person in here did, but it looks like a toddler got a wrench and went to town. Half this stuff is straight out of a history textbook, and the other half looks like someone tried to make something out of spare parts from a dollar store."

    Locksmith withdrew the proffered cloth, tucking it back into his pocket. "I believe I'll retire to my quarters. Today has been eventful, and truthfully I have no desire to watch another uncouth display like the last one."

    Riker snorted, sparing a glance toward him. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to save a sneeze for you for next time I'm doing your repairs." He leaned back, resting in roughly the same position as Hare. After Locksmith left he turned to his companion, chewing the inside of his cheek before trying the find the right words. "You've been...quiet." It was more an invitation to speak than an observation.

    "Thinkin'." Hare was at a loss for more words than that--something Riker would have been quick to point out as the very first time had the circumstances been better. Family was a hard thing, especially for this lot. Hell, he struggled with his own family, but that was just a whole ‘nother beast.

    "For what it's worth, she's not one of ours. The marks and parts are wrong. But it does say Becile on the panel." Riker passed the piece of metal over to Hare, who inspected it carefully. Imprinted inside was the name Grace P. Becile in the standard formatting of foundry marks. Becile…

    "Pops never talked about a Grace. Think she's connected to Buster? Don't know that we really know where he came from neither." He handed it back to Weed, who set to work securing it back in place. She twitched under his tools, so it'd only be another minute or two until she came to.

    "You'd know better than me." Riker shrugged, wiping his hands off on a rag and stretching.

    "I'll go get Skully to carry her out." Hare jerked a thumb towards the front door, his other hand on his hip. "But uh...hey Weed. While you're out, keep an eye on her. If you see her. Don't go outta yer way or nothin'." His hand migrated to rub the back of his neck as he cleared his throat. “I gotta go back to my room. I'll see you later."

    "Right. I'll see you later." Riker watched him go before sighing and gathering up his tools. Keep an eye out...yeah, he could do that.

[ao3feed-spg]

Last Words Spoken

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/q6EZvbd

by amuseoffirebane

The final conversation between Locksmith and Thadeus, in the moments before Locksmith was sealed in the Vault of the Becile Manor Archives.

Words: 301, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Becile Bots Canon Fics

Fandoms: Steam Powered Giraffe

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Locksmith Becile (OC), Thadeus Becile

Additional Tags: Dialogue, One-sided Conversation, Becile Bots AU, Short

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/q6EZvbd

[pojofi96]

I made the Becile boys on Tomodachi Life

[amuseoffirebane]

Fan Fic: Hide and Seek

Word Count: 1271

Fandom: Steam Powered Giraffe, Becile Bots AU

Half of a trade with @skittering-roach! I hope you enjoy it, sorry this is coming later than expected ^^;

-

           “Ta-ta!” The Jack called over his shoulder as he skittered down the hallway, Hare’s yells fading behind him. They had been trying to trap him, to tie him up and lock him in a cage, dead in a corner. But he was too fast! Too fast for them to catch, for them to kill. The Jack threw his head back and laughed—see them waddle with their short legs after him!

          (except the monster, always the monster came on, unstoppable, mountainous)

          So he ran, and ran and ran and ran, all the walls blurring together. He paid no mind to where he was going—it was simply away, far away, to the other end of the Earth. He would run across the oceans, slide down the dunes of the deserts, until he found that place that was all white and warm and there were no cages, no coats, just Jack, just by himself and free.

          But before he got there, The Jack passed by the attic staircase and skid to a halt, head craning back around to look at it. Oh, yes, what a wonderful place to hide! He took the stairs two at a time until he reached the door marked with a ‘D,’ then latched his teeth around the handle. It barely moved as he twisted his head—locked? Locked! It had tricked him! The Jack giggled at the door’s funny joke.

          Something stirred on the other side of the door. “Hare? Go away! I’m not in the mood for you today.”

          “Not quite,” The Jack sing-song’d, grinning. “I left him far behind, on the other side of the world! We’re having a chase, and,” he stopped talking to laugh. “I’m going to win!”

          “I don’t care!” Dee screamed from inside her room. “Get away from me!”

          “Don’t care, won’t care, never cared for poor Jack,” The Jack said, shaking his head. “Won’t even let me play hide and see—”

          Something hit the other side of the door and shattered. The noise made The Jack flinch backwards, his heel slipping off the edge of the step, and he tumbled down the stairs, cracking a few steps on his way down. He screamed with laughter even as he hit the second floor, kicking his legs out of their tangle. He clacked his teeth together, feeling how unaligned they had become. What a strange sensation! How much farther could he push it? So far that his teeth would no longer touch at all? Perhaps he would—

          “There!”

          The Jack turned his head to see Hare bolting toward him, one green eye glinting with determination. The Jack shuffled around on the ground and sat up so he was facing his oncoming brother, grinning expectantly. But as Hare ducked down to grab him, The Jack leaned back and brought up his legs, catching the bottom edge of Hare’s chest-furnace with his heels and then pushing. Hare’s couldn’t move back in time, and he flipped over The Jack in a bizarre, unwilling act of acrobatics. He landed on his back and a pained cloud of smoke shot from his vents. The Jack took advantage of Hare’s dazed state—he stood and took off running, oil leaking from his broken jaw, howling with laughter.

          Back to the chase!

          And now he knew just where to go, oh yes. Dust kicked up around his feet as The Jack approached the less-visited part of the wing. No one came here; no, no one would look here. There were demons lurking, and The Jack had to be very, very quiet. He tried to smother his nervous giggles as he edged toward a dark set of double doors, their stained window panels dark. The Devil Himself was behind them, but perhaps, perhaps, Jack had heard of deals with the Devil. Safety for servitude. It had always been that way.

          He couldn’t remember who the Devil was, not right now, nor if he was truly ill divine. But he had always been here, forever and ever he had been here, even before the KKSH-KRRR-KRK-FRYING-BURNING-COURSING-DYING even before the coat even before his eyes had ever opened. The Jack never saw him anymore, except in every shadow, except hovering at the monster’s shoulders, watching him, ready to pull the wires out the ends of his fingers and take away his wig and his bow, and he would burn them, burn them like the coal he consumed but never felt full, never felt satisfied. Hell! He lived in Hell! The Jack jerked and cackled at the thought, though he was not happy. But it was all he could do, the only sound left to make. Anger, sadness, glee, fear—it was all laughter every which way. He was laughing so hard he could barely get his teeth around the door handle. Why were his teeth so funny un-straight?

          But these doors were locked too. Slowly The Jack let go, oil dribbling down his chin, and he whimpered, suddenly very, very afraid—the Devil had abandoned him? Where would he run now? Where could the monster not find him? Where—

           And then it was there, the monster, looming over him, all darkness and towering hate, with the Devil’s eyes all around him and Jack was scared, so scared. The Jack tried to back up but he tripped and the monster caught him, lifted him to the sky with arms that ran for miles and began to carry him back to the other side of the world, where they would chop him up and make toys from the pieces. And the toys would scream as they danced and circled and chewed each other to bits.

           The Jack tried to scream, too, but as always, always, always, there was only laughter.

-

           “He was trying to get into the Master’s study,” The Skull said, walking up to Hare with The Jack still slung over one shoulder. The screeching laughter from the smaller ‘bot had faded into mumblings and giggles by now, and he no longer struggled to get away.

           “That’s weird,” Hare said, still trying to pop some of his spinal struts back into alignment. “He never goes up there. Must’ve thought we wouldn’t come lookin’.”

           The Skull made a derisive noise in retort. “Assumin’ he still thinks.”

           “Mr. Weed’s not gonna be happy about that jaw. It was just supposed to be routine maintenance.” Hare sighed dramatically. “Nothin’s ever easy ‘round here.”

           “You want to be the one carryin’ him?”

           “I’m good, thanks.”

           “I say,” Locksmith said, turning a corner to join them. “It appears success was found in apprehending our misguided absconder?”

           “Yeah, for all the help you were!” Hare snapped. There was a series of pops as he pressed his fists into the small of his back and stretched, forcing things straight. The Jack mumbled something that sounded like his name, and Hare cocked his head to the side. “What was that, Jacky-boy?” he asked, walking around The Skull to get a better look at him.

           “Hare will keep the toys,” The Jack said softly. “And he will take them to the white place, and there will be no kksh-krrr-krk—” His voice dissolved into static and he shook his head slowly.

           Hare only stared for a moment, then reached up and patted The Jack gently on the head. “That’s nice, buddy,” he said, forever oblivious. “Mr. Weed’s gonna get you all fixed up, nice and easy, alright? So no more runnin’ around and givin’ us trouble. ‘Sides,” Hare said with a chuckle. “You might piss Skull off so bad he really does take you to pieces.”

           And The Jack, terrified, laughed along with him.

[amuseoffirebane]

@emmi-kat pretty close! Divinator (also called Surge) did design Locksmith and "Download/Downgrade", who I've rechristened "Dee" in my time running the blog. If there's a Zer0 equivalent out there he's not official, because I'm working on the fic to introduce that character now xD

Becile Workers are mostly their own thing, as they work for Becile Industries whereas the Becile Bots were made by Thadeus Becile decades earlier (and might have been made by Surge prior to Industries becoming canon, but I don't remember that as well).

Anyone know where I can find out more about the Becile Bots? I’m only now just starting to figure out they uh.. Exist, and I wanna learn more about them boys.