By the hands of the Gods, you have been plucked from your time and from your world, dropped into the box.
Only the box is a world of its own.
We are a mass crossover based on the concept of Pandora's Box. Characters from nearly any fandom can be played here. Because of the endless character possibilities, we are canon only here at Pandora. Take a peek at our rules and plot information before starting your new life in Pandora.
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Complete One (One) Small Step

This roleplay has reached its conclusion.

One-One

Infinity Train
The Ball of Mixed Emotions
Posts
188
Location
Definitely somewhere strange!
Pronouns
He/Him
Species
Robot
Occupation
Delivery 'bot and maitre d'
Alignment
Neutral Good
Profile
link
Organizer
link
Directory
link
Character Development
link
x1J9uDI.png

June 12, Y-109
11:00 AM


"Space! Space! Space space space!" One-One was practically bouncing beside his father as the two of them navigated their way through the Undercity. The elevator ride up had been filled with the same excited babbling! Never would he have imagined they could ever travel up to explore space, but here they were! On a moon! Of course, the view wasn't exactly filled with stars and planets that would make any mobile proud... The view instead was marred by dark tunnels and dank little buildings. But hey, it was a new area, and that was all Glad-One needed to be happy as his optics took in every new corner, every new underground street, every other citizen they passed!

Sad-One, meanwhile... "I bet someone's gonna fire into the exhaust port and make it explode, killing us all. There are so many ways to die in space." Well, the depressed half of One-One was content to think about the subject that always seemed to bring him joy! Death. He tilted his 'face' upwards snootily, like a smug peacock. "We could probably float along in the empty vacuum of space for years with nothing but cold, unfeeling vibes from the universe, and existential dread. It's like, what I've always wanted." Morbid desires, but he wouldn't be Sad-One without them!

Daddy may be feeling a little differently, but both of his stinkers were enjoying the trip! Just a little delivery and they could be on their way--

"--eyes burning light stars--"

"--they're coming, they're coming--"

"--birds singing their songs--"

"--glorious Welkin Ring beyond--"

"--eating up all the breadcrumbs--"


The sphere shaped robot rolled to a stop at the strange voice. There had been a decent buzz of voices caused by the other citizens going about their day, mumbling and conversing among themselves, but that mysterious voice rose above the rest. It was louder, fragmented, and above all else... Synthetic. Tilting this way and that, One-One's optics narrowed into thin ovals as he attempted to narrow in on the direction of it. "Did you hear that...? I think it's another robot...!" Glad-One whispered to his father, even though there was nobody eavesdropping on them. Without another word, he rolled in the direction of the voice, leaving his daddy to hobble after him to keep up. He easily weaving around the legs and feet of other people before he managed to find the source of the garbled words!

He was definitely another robot alright, though he was not as put together as the two of them were! He was more humanoid in shape like daddy! Two legs, two arms, a torso, and a head. However, the poor robot looked to be rather naked. One-One could see his bare frame and everything, as well as exposed wires! His fingers were rather sharp looking, dangling uselessly by his sides. "Excuse me, sir. I think you're missing your shell." Sad-One deadpanned, staring up at the sparking, shuffling mess of a mech.

"--eyes burning light stars--"

"--they're coming, they're coming--"

"--birds singing their songs--"

"--glorious Welkin Ring beyond--"

"--eating up all the breadcrumbs--"


"Hm, not one for conversation..." Sad-One's optics scrutinized their new little 'friend'. Something about stars, someone was coming. Birds are singing. Welkin Ring...? And then...

"Breadcrumbs, do you mean like Hansel and Gretel?" Glad-One asked curiously, before swiveling to look at Scaramouche (who had no doubt caught up by now since they hadn't gotten too far from him!). "Daddy, I think he's hurt! Do you think we could help him?" Hopeful as he was, a tinge of worry was present in the little bot's voice.

As if completing his twin's thought, Sad-One spoke up with another squint in the direction of their shambling 'friend'. "He might be too far gone for us to help..." What say you, wisest of daddies?
 
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Scaramouche

Samurai Jack
The Assassin with the Sassin'
Posts
155
Location
anywhere the wind blows
Species
Android
Height
8'
Occupation
"Problem" Solver
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
One small step for One-One, one giant -- "Bluuuuuuuurgh...!! -- for daddy.

It went without saying that the lift twining Pandora with its heavens had not been kind to Scaramouche, the towering android now a swaying, green-faced embodiment of much regret. He stumbled after his diminutive babe, steps uneasy, and thought to hover beside a graffiti'd trash bin for a moment of reprieve. (For what good it would do, considering the offensive odors fermenting within... What even was all that gunk, anyhow?) Something told the android -- a little voice of reason, perhaps -- that scanning the unknown material would only make him queasier.

"Space! Space! Space space space!"


"Ugh, pumpkin... c... c-can ya not, like -- " Urp!! " -- b-bounce around t-too much...? I-I'm s-s-startin' to see four o-of ya..." And that was four One-Ones too many.

Scaramouche withdrew a silk handkerchief from his coat pocket and sniffed, looking away from the awful mess -- and his rambunctious tot. "Huff...! Huff...! Huff...! U-Ugh, I hate s-space... All this a-artificial gravity is d-d-drivin' my sensors positively nuts." Suppose there was no real helping it, though... Not unless someone really did fire a proton torpedo down the exhaust port.

"There are so many ways to die in space."


Oh boy, here we go...

He rolled his optics and covered his mouth with the hankie, fighting another urge to purge. "Y-Yeah, I'd rather not d-drift aimlessly in a cold, d-dark void forever and ever, t-thank you...?" Morbid desires? More like a swift paddle on the butt-butt if Sad-One didn't give it up. Anyway...

The neatly-wrapped package beneath his arm wasn't getting any lighter, and Scaramouche had half a processor to go crawling back to the lift -- on his own damn stomach if he had to -- and just chuck the wretched thing out the nearest airlock. Who ordered a bowl of ramen from the next celestial sphere over? Who!? "A-All right, listen u-up...!!" he barked, stifling an unpleasant belch. "T-The sooner we deliver this c-crap, the s-s-sooner we can return to that pain in my a-anterior platin'! P-Problem is, m-my sensors ain't worth a f-f-flyin' s-shit up here..." And so the plot thickens.

Knowing this was a snowball's chance in Hell but not seeing any other choice, the sour-faced android turned to his wee babe pleadingly. Believe him: Scaramouche wouldn't entrust his life to the other 'bot if he could avoid it. "One-One...? T-Think you c-can -- ? T-Think you -- O-Oh sweet Shogun of S-Sorrow, have mercy..." Three... Two... Bluuuuuuuuurgh!!

And we have liftoff!

...Yeah, space officially sucked massive donkey balls. Could be worse, however. It could always worse.

"Did you hear that...? I think it's another robot...!"


Liiiiiiiiiike One-One rolling off into certain danger and completely forgetting the reason why they were up here in the first place. Scaramouche barely had time to wipe his mouth. "One-One, wait, come back!!" he shouted after the lil' ding-dong dummy, arm outstretched. "W-We don't know th-th-that 'bot from Beep and B -- !" ...Too late, One-One was already leaving him behind in the vapor trail, disappearing in a sea of unfamiliar faces. And just like that, the android's oil pressure shot sharply through the roof with one, frustrated snarl. "...mmmMMMM, god damn it!! When I catch that lil' brat, I'mma turn him over my knee!!" Scaramouche threatened.

Guess he better go after his darling imbecile before One-One finds a spot of bother and gets them both killed. "Sigh..." The robot glanced down at their delivery and noted its internal temperature plummeting by the second. Welp, hope the recipient liked cold noodles... "Sorry, Boss, but it looks like this one's gonna be three outta five stars on the review." If they were lucky.

Some things just couldn't be helped.

And off Scaramouche went, forsaking the comfort of the garbage receptacle for that of a fate uncertain (and a consumption tank on the verge of total collapse).

"S'cuse me, pardon me, robot on a mission comin' through," he remarked gruffly, shoving people this way and that way. You try navigating through a bustling, smelly crowd while fighting off a mean hangover. "Hey, eyes up front, sparky, or else I'm gonna knock your teeth down your throat!!" Ahhhh, urban encounters... Where would society be without 'em? Probably in a better, happier place, but, y'know...

He pushed his way through the last of the stragglers and wobbled off to the side, thankful for a small moment to regain composure. "One-One! One-One, where are ya!? This ain't cool, kiddo!!" Scaramouche cried out, his optics searching as best they could. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. How could finding one white-as-snow, round, little ball be so difficult in all these mottled browns and neon glows? One-One should be sticking out like a sore thumb! "Ugh, I am so not in the mood to play 'Where's One-One'..." the android grumbled.

"--eyes burning light stars--"

"--they're coming, they're coming--"

"--birds singing their songs--"

"--glorious Welkin Ring beyond--"

"--eating up all the breadcrumbs--"


"...Hm?"

Uh-oh, sounded like trouble.
And wherever there's trouble, there's...

"One-One, get away from that sickly thing!!" Before the lil' scamp knew it, a pair of dutiful hands wrenched One-One away from the rambling unit and tucked him protectively within strong, adamant arms. A furious scowl wasn't far behind. "Don'tcha ever roll away from me again!" Scaramouche scolded, sternly laying into his disobedient tyke. Relief overcame the android and he hugged One-One tightly, suppressing a series of mutinous shivers. "W-What were ya thinkin', pumpkin...? Ya c-c-coulda gotten hurt!!" But how could he remain calm and collected when One-One nearly shook hands with that!?

There was indeed another robot, all right. But to call it 'kin' was on par with saying a plague victim was welcome to shake your hand. The android immediately gave the other unit a wide berth and glared daggers at its uncouth appearance.

Something was wrong.
Something was very, very wrong, and Scaramouche didn't need his optics to see it.

Back off, freakazoid! he beeped angrily at the wayward machine, striking his heels against the pavement. It was a standard declaration of establishing one's territory, not unlike a lioness with her vulnerable cub, and damn if Scaramouche wasn't going to spit piss n' vinegar to keep the unsightly thing away! His furor only seemed to intensify as he shielded One-One's innocent optics with a hand. What's the matter with you, Jack? Everyone can see your parts! You're settin' bad example for the rest of us, have you no shame!? I got a child here!! An awful, awful thing, secondhand embarrassment.

But! It also wasn't their problem, and Scaramouche wasn't looking to make it one despite One-One's PSU being in the right place.

"Daddy, I think he's hurt! Do you think we could help him?"
"He might be too far gone for us to help..."


"Yeah? Well, that's tough noogies for him," the android replied churlishly, already turning to leave the sickly unit behind. "There ain't no help for 'bots that can't help themselves," he explained further, carrying One-One off, "and we ain't in the business to go fixin' every sputterin', galumphin' pile of scrap we come across! We're delivery 'bots, and delivery 'bots don't go blindly chargin' off into danger, got that?"

Please, baby 'bot, please.
For once find it within your scatterbrained chips to heed daddy's words just this one, freakin' time.

"--eyes burning light stars--"

"--they're coming, they're coming--"

"--birds singing their songs--"

"--glorious Welkin Ring beyond--"

"--eating up all the breadcrumbs--"


Ugh, rampant machines... Was there truly no greater indignity they must suffer?
 
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Alita

Guest
Space the final frontier……Something was famously spoke by a certain captain. No one really knows how it came to be, but all we know is that its like a sea of infinite blackness. Stars twinkled with their lights to ensure that the void of space had light to guide weary travellers, It was somewhere in the vastness of the black sea, that Alita’s home planet stood in all of its glory. After finally learning of its existence, she decided to revisit the stars once again and make sure her past was never forgotten ever again. Mars was the very planet where she had been created to slay the “God of Machines”, and still that very mission remains inside her very soul. Upon telling her sisters on where she was going, Ali left her home in Pandora and took the next shuttle flight to the very stars.

The Cosmic Wilderness which was now the name of space itself, had brought back memories. Ali could remember her superior training in the URM (United Republic of Mars) Ship. Her journey to the city in the ever reaching void, didn’t take too long, and soon the ship docked at last onto one of the available docking bays. A passenger door opened and several people of various ages emerged as they got off of the transport ship, and headed to the exit. Finally Alita emerged from the ship and headed out of the spaceport, to stand at the entrance to Elysium. Garbed in a oversized yet baggy t-shirt, jeans, trainers and a long leather coat which touched her ankles, she marched onwards, a backpack covering the top section of her back.

Being in this city made her feel more connected with her home. Carefully she headed eastwards, the hem of her coat billowed around her with each step taken, as more thoughts wondered into her mind, she soon bumped into a fairly large robot. Words came from its mouth as it looked down upon the Battle Angel, pretty soon the metal man launched a fist towards her with no reason at all! Instantly she did some backward somersaulted until she landed in a defensive position. The crowd of people and fellow cyborgs alike began to run for their lives as the robot went out of control.
 
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One-One

Infinity Train
The Ball of Mixed Emotions
Posts
188
Location
Definitely somewhere strange!
Pronouns
He/Him
Species
Robot
Occupation
Delivery 'bot and maitre d'
Alignment
Neutral Good
Profile
link
Organizer
link
Directory
link
Character Development
link
"Bluuuuuuuurgh...!!


That was enough to jog the little robot out of his little reverie. "Whoop! S-sorry, daddy...!" How... strange. Scaramouche hadn't been nearly this nauseous after consuming ten whole liters of hot dog, so whatever could he have eaten now that would make him want to purge his systems? Maybe it was related to the elevator? He thought the trip had been rather smooth... Nevertheless, the little robot slowed his bouncing to a sluggish rolling in an attempt to ease the other's motion sickness. "Don't worry, daddy! Space is fun! We're on our own little adventure, pioneers to the stars!" More like delivery 'bots to the stars, but hey. One-One wasn't about to mince words.

"Why not, pops? I bet it'd be painless, which has gotta be an improvement over... whatever's happening to you right now." It wasn't meant to sound so harsh, the depressed half of the 'bot did seem concerned over what had befallen his father, but sometimes the bugaboo was too blunt for his own good. Scaramouche was struggling, soon he was gonna add a heaping dose of barf-ola to that ramen, and now he wanted something of the little bot! A favor, perhaps? Assistance? Both halves listened with interest... and then he got sick again. "Think I can what...?" Careful with your request, Scaramouche, lest you wind up in a 'blind leading the blind' situation!

Speaking of which...

Off he goes...! Without another thought, One-One rolled off in the direction of the strange robot, unwittingly leaving his stressed father behind! It hadn't been on purpose of course. Glad-One was just curious and excited, naive to the potential dangers of their new environment. Forgetful over the delivery that was their entire reason for being there. Sad-One, on the other hand, was too apathetic to intervene. Together, both had lost sight of the bigger picture. Now that they had found their new strange 'friend', the little dummy began to roll a little closer...

"One-One, get away from that sickly thing!!"


In comes daddy with the save! Two firm but familiar hands scooped the little ball up, tucking him close as the other robot gave him the truly daunting 'parental scowl of disapproval'! It was enough to make both sides of the 'bot clamp his metaphorical mouth shut for once. Only when the scolding turned into a tight and relieved hug did he find it in himself to stutter an answer. "I...I, uh..." Or attempt to, in Glad-One's case.

"I guess I... w-wasn't thinking at all." Sad-One finished their thought, his nubs clutching their father's jacket desperately. Numerous possibilities flashed through the pessimistic robot's mind, endless unfortunate situations that could have resulted in death, or worse. He let out a soft groan, pressing his face into his father as he tried to erase the image of that upset scowl from his memory. "I'm sorry, pops..."

"W-we didn't mean to upset you, promise...!" Neither half could really understand their father's strange beeping, and Glad-One let out an inquisitive boop when their optics were covered, but for now their new robot friend was the LAST thing from his mind. Sorry, strange guy! Daddy took front stage! "Yes, daddy... Delivery bots don't go blindly charging off into danger..." Being scolded wasn't fun...! He deserved it for upsetting his daddy, but now he was unsure how to make it up to him...!

That mysterious robot might have been completely forgotten about... Were it not for the fight that was suddenly breaking out! From his position in daddy's arms, all One-One could see was the crowd of people dispersing as if in a panic. "Um... I know we're not supposed to go running into danger-"

"-But what the heck is happening now?! Should we run too, or would that be the 'sheeple' thing to do?" Sad-One mumbled against their dad's palm, both sides resolving to themselves that whatever was happening, they would not take off and leave their father panicking alone again!
 
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Scaramouche

Samurai Jack
The Assassin with the Sassin'
Posts
155
Location
anywhere the wind blows
Species
Android
Height
8'
Occupation
"Problem" Solver
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
Hm, perhaps he had been too... -- ?

Scaramouche erased the wayward thought from his digital conscious. "I know, pumpkin. I... know," he muttered quietly, pressing the smaller unit against his chest. Well! That had certainly been an electrifying experience, hadn't it? A delicate puff of heated air left the android's ventilation system and he suddenly felt several decades past his warranty. "What matters most is that you're okay," Scaramouche answered, finding the resolve to speak, "and neither of ya got hurt by that... by that thing." That other robot, now crazed and since fallen to the depravity all thinking machines feared. In time, One-One would understand. But, for now...

The android's face softened, metal giving way to a gentle smile. "I'm sorry for yellin' at ya," Scaramouche sighed. Again, he hugged his baby 'bot close. "I was just... worried, y'know? That 'bot ain't like us, One-One. It's volatile. It's sick. There is no salvation for somethin' so lost."

♪~I see a little silhouette-o of a man,
Scaramouche, Scaramouche!
Will you do the Fandango~♪?


Ah, crap. Three guesses as to who that could be.

He held up a finger -- "One moment, pumpkin." -- and dug out his phone.

"Y'ello, this is Scaramouche the Fantabulous answerin'!"
Garble, garble! Garble, garble!
"Er, yeah. Yeah, baby, we're still out deliverin', why?"
Garble garble garble!!
"W-Well, I mean... k-k-kiiiiinda? Like, we kinda hit a snag up here, babe, so delivery ain't been -- "
Garble garble garble garble garble!!
"Ugh, I know, I know! I-freakin'-know, baby, but this shit ain't -- "

"Run for your lives, it's gone rogue!!"


All Hell broke loose within the blink of an optic.

"...Seriously!? Seriously!?" Scaramouche darted away from the stampeding crowd, the android quick on his processors and even quicker on his feet. He leaped onto a raised concrete accent wall and balanced precariously on the tips of his toes. "Are you people crazy!?" the robot screamed, his arm wrapped tightly around a light fixture. "You're gonna kill yourselves in all this madness!!"

Garble garble garble!?

For Pete's SAKE!

"Yeah, well, I can't talk right now, babe!!" the android shouted into his phone, oil pressure fit to blow. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea, but he'll smooth things out with the Boss later. Right now there was pure chaos running amok! "I'll call ya back later, 'kay!? Shit's hittin' the fan!"

Garble? Garble garble garb -- !!
Click.

Hey, who said silence wasn't golden?

One very late, and very peeved Scaramouche gruffly stowed his phone away, the killer-android-turned-delivery-'bot none too happy about current affairs. "Oh c'mon, people, it's just a rampant robot!" he shouted irately at the frantic masses. "Just leave it alone and you'll be Gucci, promise!!" Ugh, it was no use... There was no listening to reason at a time like this, and it was all because somebody decided to play the 'hero'. Gag!!

"Um... I know we're not supposed to go running into danger-"
"-But what the heck is happening now?! Should we run too, or would that be the 'sheeple' thing to do?"


Sheeple...

He kept a firm grip around his baby 'bot and didn't budge. "We do positively nothin'!" Scaramouche ordered, just barely -- barely -- keeping his temper under wraps. "If that girlie wants to go mano y mano with the 'bot, let her!! She's the reason everythin' went to sudden pot!" Why'd she have to go and agitate the unstable thing? Why? A cursory scan revealed that the young dame wasn't an ordinary woman, but a -- "Cyborg...!? Ugh, today's just gettin' better and better," the android growled. Well, no use playing commentator from up on high.

Scaramouche cupped a hand around his mouth and did what he did best. "Hey, cyborg!" the robot shouted. "Yeah, you! The one bouncin' around like a freakin' Mexican jumpin' bean! Do us all a favor and leave that poor 'bot alone. You're only makin' its condition worse by showin' outward hostility!! Try immobilizin' it instead, huh?"

The android would do it himself, but, uh, he was kinda heavy with child, so...
 
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Alita

Guest
Size was something to factor in a battle between warriors. Alita may look like a little girl, and the fact that the robot towered over her, made it look like the ancient tale of David vs. Goliath had come true. Although she was much smaller compared to the rampaging robot, Ali was confident that she could take on the big brute. After looking at the mechanical creature, she could see the very image of Grewishka, the very beings who destroyed her first body. People of all ages ran for their lives as the two robots prepared to face each other, despite its mighty strength, the Battle Angel easily dodged its giant attacks like a mouse trying to escape from a rampaging elephant.

The young cyborg knew that this thing would not stop until it destroyed everything! Figuring out why this thing was going berserk, looked difficult, so for now she simply dodged the attacks, as the hem of her ankle length leather trench coat billowed behind her as the girl somersaulted backwards once again. With no other option she clenched her fist and once again believed in the power of the Berserker Body, as she rushed forwards with a killer intent to destroy her opponent. Before her fist could attack however, she heard the voice of a robot call out to spare it! CRASH! There was an almighty crashing sound, as the giants fist had connected with Alita…..However she heard the voice in time as its fist slammed into her open palm

Alita stood still as she took the brute force of the punch. Thankfully her hand and palm felt perfectly fine as she was made out of stronger metal. Hearing the robots cry to immobilize it, The Battle Angel soon used her shoulder to tackled into the ground. From there she held both of its arms down as she pinned it to the ground, she called out to the robot who called out to her.

“I got him……”
 
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One-One

Infinity Train
The Ball of Mixed Emotions
Posts
188
Location
Definitely somewhere strange!
Pronouns
He/Him
Species
Robot
Occupation
Delivery 'bot and maitre d'
Alignment
Neutral Good
Profile
link
Organizer
link
Directory
link
Character Development
link
Scary as it had been to be admonished by Scaramouche, any trace of shock wilted as the taller robot cradled him closer. The little ball nuzzled against the material with a soft coo. Being tucked up against the other truly made One-One feel safe. From the bottom of his nubs to the very top of his curved body! There was something about it that brought back feelings and traces of some half-formed memory from long ago. All he knew for sure, that it was a secure feeling. "I'm glad you're okay too, daddy!" Glad-One piped up, his usual chipper tone returning bit by bit.

"You didn't get hurt while we were separated." Sad-One helpfully clarified his twin's point. "It only hit me afterwards but, wow. Anything could have happened, huh? Sometimes I forget what a crummy place the world is and then I'm like... oh right." Maybe not an... uplifting addition to this genuine moment between father and son(s), but! No less sincere. The idea of something awful happening to their father they'd gotten separated, oof. It was a terrifying thought. Perhaps that was how Scaramouche felt...?

"I'm sorry for yellin' at ya, I was just... worried, y'know? That 'bot ain't like us, One-One. It's volatile. It's sick. There is no salvation for somethin' so lost."


"Not like us...?" Both optics swiveled up the black band to peer up at the other robot curiously. His little nubs seemed to clench onto the material of the other's coat to hug him back, even as his little gears turned. "You don't have to be sorry, daddy. I was being a bad boy."

"I deserved it." Surprising as it had been for the other robot to raise his voice, neither half bore a grudge about it. They hadn't been thinking, they took off when daddy was compromised and when they were in a new environment. Ergo, daddy was right to be a little upset at them. Further words, particularly about their robotic friend, were delayed as the robot's phone began to go off. One-One bobbed to the beat of daddy's ringtone and stayed quiet while he chatted on the phone. A conversation that was cut short by the chaos! Scaramouche managed to keep the both of them safe by leaping up onto a wall and holding One-One securely to him. The little sphere shaped 'bot had no inclination to leave the protection of his father.

"Rampant robot?" Glad-One's optics blinked. He remembered that word. The little robot seemed unsure of what to do, making little fitful sounds. "We do nothing...?" He couldn't help but feel... compelled to help that robot! He was another robot, and Scaramouche even confirmed that he was sick! So didn't they mean, they should help him become not sick...? Was there perhaps a robot hospital? Anything...?

"Eugh, cyborgs. That's creepy." Part organic, part robot. The very idea of taking on any organic body parts made Sad-One want to cringe. "Blegh... I'm fine staying here and doing nothing, I don't really want any part to do with this..."

"But he was talking about bread crumbs! Like in the Hansel and Gretel story! And he said that somebody was coming! We can't just let him get hurt, can we...?" The optimistic half was just as distressed as he sounded. Even if the cyborg woman was now subduing the robot, what was going to happen to him now? Robo-prison? "I...I know you said he isn't like us, but... We can't just walk away... can we?" Could they go about their day, make the delivery, and give no further thought to the robot? "Maybe we could talk to him...?"

"And maybe he could totally destroy us, or infect us with his rust-bucket butt." Helpful as always. Still, both looked up to Scaramouche for answers. This time, he wasn't about to go rolling off without saying anything to his daddy first. He may be a ding dong, but he tried to learn from his mistakes!
 
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Scaramouche

Samurai Jack
The Assassin with the Sassin'
Posts
155
Location
anywhere the wind blows
Species
Android
Height
8'
Occupation
"Problem" Solver
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
Coo...
Coo...
Coo...


Aww, just listen to the lil' baddie go... Scaramouche had almost forgotten about the robot rampaging in their midst and threatening to violently rip everyone limb from limb.

Almost. (He quite liked his limbs where they were, thank you.)

WHAM!!

Mm, mm, mm... Nothing like hearing the teeth-clenching screech of metal colliding against metal. Really brought everything into perspective, especially if you were built like a flimsy sheet metal shack! "Oof... Note to self, babe," the android winced, "don't be on the receivin' end when she casts 'fist'." Welp! Sucks to be that other 'bot, because it hadn't a hope or a prayer. They, however, had no horse in this here race, so it was time to slap on their dew-beaters and make like a banana split. This ramen bowl was as frigid as Halley's Comet!

"We do nothing...?"


...Or not.

Scaramouche bit back an incredulous scoff and balked at his clueless, doe-eyed babe. "Tch!! I hate to bust your tiny lil' bolts, kid, but this ain't exactly the time for a moral quandary! Didja tune out what I just said? We. Gots. To. Go." No offense to the cyborg, but she voluntarily stepped into the ring and decided to duke it out with their big, naked, and very angry friend. Of course, one could say that she really hadn't a choice, seeing how the latter operated on a hair-trigger 'combat mode' and was thus imperiling civilians, but hey, who cares if a few nameless schlemiels get iced, right? The less foot traffic to contend with, the easier their (already failed) gig will be!

"Look, your twin's on the trolley!" the android argued, impatient, as he pointed his finger at Glad-One's wee, little optic. Ugh, Mr. 'Bottomless Philanthropy' looked all kinds of distressed, but nobody said life was a box of soft centers with no icky undesirables in-between. Sometimes, you mistakenly bit into a Queen Anne and just had to eat the 'L'. (Sure, you could spit it out, but the damage had already been done.)

Something told Scaramouche that one-half of One-One wouldn't see it that way, however.

Daddy Dearest tried another angle, and one talking crickets need not intervene. "We're delivery 'bots, not heroes. Walkin' away from a sticky situation is a totally viable option," he restated, digging in his metaphorical heels. It was cowardly, but cowards lived to see another sunrise. It was also exasperatingly difficult to hear himself compute, given the earth-shattering -- THOOMS -- and -- CRRRACKS -- of heavy metal feet and fists pounding futilely against pavement. Gotta give the 'borg credit: she was quick, if not reaching uncanny valley levels. Like one Sad-One, though, he still wasn't a fan of the concept. "So one robot gets a severe case of the logic plague; better it than us! Like ya said earlier, pumpkin: it's a crummy world. Get used to it, 'cause we're low on the cosmic totem pole." ...That was terrible advice!! Scaramouche should honestly feel ashamed of himself, conscience be damned. (He secretly did, a little...)

But his advice was still sound, as horrible as it was, for neither Scaramouche nor One-One really had the capacity to take out such a dangerous foe.

...Okay, that was kind of a lie, because the Assassin with the Sassin' could honestly mop the floor with it in two shakes of a lamb's tail, but he really didn't want to, and they were already in deep shit with their new boss. Ergo...

“I got him……”


He glanced up, a bit sour in the face, and decided to make the most of his hardware. ...Guilt? No, why would you ever think that? "...There's a battery casin' approximately five inches to the right and two inches above your left hand, beneath the primary PSU cage. Remove the screws, pop the lid, and pull the green wire. Touch nothin' else. That should enable you to yank the sucker out and finally put an end to this kerfuffle." High-tech scanning technology. Gotta love it for ass-pulls like these! Though, if anyone was courageous enough to ask, his knowledge of the green wire was little more than a lucky guess. (It could be the red one.)

"There," Scaramouche grumbled. It was tempting to look One-One in his beady lil' optics and start fussing, but brevity was the best friend of somebody who couldn't keep their tongue out of trouble. "We did somethin', and now the robot can go to the robot hospital, where it'll be reunited with its robot family and kick ye olde robot pigskin with its robot son." Yeah! Look at all this brevity!! "Are ya happy now, peanut? Can we finally go deliver this bowl of flaccid rice noodles and ice-cold bone broth so that Daddy may be chewed out by the Wicked Witch of the Yeast?"

Whether this quick fix worked or not, never said he didn't do a damn thing for you, One-One, you obnoxious turd nugget! Here's, uh, hoping it did, though.

For all their sakes.
 
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Alita

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Robots don’t normally go out of control, unless something was wrong. Alita contained the metal behemoth with her arms, as it tried to struggle free, try as it might, it was not strong enough to bypass the Battle Angel’s strength. Thankfully the out of control metal man didn’t cause any fatalities, and yet he had to be stopped without causing the thing any harm to it. The voice that called out to her had wanted her to no harm it, and luckily she was created with human emotions, so she looked at it with concern for its safety. Sure the fallen opponent looked menacing and was even bigger then the cyborg she killed in her world, but somehow she knew that this thing was not evil. Stopping him from hurting others, while not causing it harm was not going to be easy. Thankfully Ali heard the voice again as it directed her to a panel.

Quickly the young cyborg adjusted herself, so that her knees rested on the robots arms. Carefully she reached down towards the panel, from there she summoned the blue flame in one finger and used it to unscrew the metal screws, and once the panel door flung open, she grabbed the green wire and yanked it out of her opponent who soon powered down without any fuss. A sigh of relief came from the girl as she soon stood upwards and gently placed the green wire down over the deactivated robot. Quietly the girl dusted herself down and adjust her leather trench coat slightly, there she headed towards the source of the voice as it looked like some kind of warrior which held a rather cute looking robot in its hands. A smile came over Alita’s face as she said.

“Thanks for the help, I’m Alita. Nice to meet you guys”
 
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One-One

Infinity Train
The Ball of Mixed Emotions
Posts
188
Location
Definitely somewhere strange!
Pronouns
He/Him
Species
Robot
Occupation
Delivery 'bot and maitre d'
Alignment
Neutral Good
Profile
link
Organizer
link
Directory
link
Character Development
link
"Tch!! I hate to bust your tiny lil' bolts, kid, but this ain't exactly the time for a moral quandary! Didja tune out what I just said? We. Gots. To. Go."


...Oh. Right!

The ramen delivery! They uh, still had a job to do! Goodness. They'd really traveled off the beaten path here. Because of... well. One-One himself. Guilt began to crash upon the sphere like waves upon a shore. He didn't want Scaramouche to get in trouble with their boss! And, he quite liked their boss! He wanted her to be proud of their first space delivery! What of the man who wanted his ramen as well?! There was a job to do, the sooner they skedaddled, the better!

Yet... Still pressed close to his father, Glad-One twiddled his front nubs together anxiously. Each THOOM and CRRRACK elicited flinches and an anxious darting of his glowing white optics. "We... we do need to, deliver that ramen. Somebody has a belly in need of filling! B-but... But..." A slight tremble shuddered through his shell. Gathering his thoughts was difficult at the best of times. An optic pinched down, vibrating in place as he pushed himself to continue! "If the world really is crummy, t-then somebody needs to fix it! One good deed... could go a long way!" Low on the totem pole or not, actions had consequences.

At last, the mysterious cyborg pinned their robotic friend. One-One expected this to be where their father decided to just walk away, so when that very much did not happen... Both optics peered up at the taller robot, equal parts surprised and proud. He didn't quite understand all of what his father was saying, but it certainly sounded like a way to assist their robotic friend! "Eeeee...~!" He vibrated eagerly in Scaramouche's arms!

"Are ya happy now, peanut? Can we finally go deliver this bowl of flaccid rice noodles and ice-cold bone broth so that Daddy may be chewed out by the Wicked Witch of the Yeast?"


"I'm so happy, daddy...! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He nuzzled against the purple jacket eagerly, optics squinting as he rubbed against the fabric. "I knew you could do it...!" With a chuckle, Glad-One began to knead with his little nubbins! "Don't you worry, daddy. We can deliver the bowl, and if the Wicked Witch gets upset, I'll take responsibility and draw her an apology picture!" He would protect daddy from any disciplinary actions!

With the advice of Scaramouche, the cyborg lady followed through on his directions and managed to inactivate and bring down the robot without destroying him! With that taken care of, she approached the two and introduced herself. One-One looked her up and down curiously. The coat wasn't as colorful as their dad's, and it was way bigger, obscuring a lot of details about the lady! Raising a nub, he waved it eagerly. "Hello Miss Alita! I'm One-"

"One." Sad-One's dull voice re-entered the conversation for the first time in a good few minutes. He hadn't been too engaged in the moral dilemma his other half had been grappling with. "Thanks for bringing that weird guy down without blowing him up, I guess. So, if you don't really need us for anything... We have a delivery to make."
 
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Scaramouche

Samurai Jack
The Assassin with the Sassin'
Posts
155
Location
anywhere the wind blows
Species
Android
Height
8'
Occupation
"Problem" Solver
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
"If the world really is crummy, t-then somebody needs to fix it! One good deed... could go a long way!"


...Sigh. It was too early in the day for a lengthy discussion on morality. And yet he bit the bait, because even androids were constructs of habit.

"Fix what!?" Scaramouche snapped, his tone strained. Oil pressure... rising! One-One, kiddo, he loves you very, very much, but sometimes you get a metal burr up your ass that just can't let things be. "You ain't fixin' this place, squirt -- no one can," the android wore a disgruntled scowl, "and, unless the powers that be get off their hoity-toity asses and take a look-see outside their gilded bubble, this world's gonna suck for the rest of us, AKA: the dregs of society!! What part of 'low on the cosmic totem pole' don'tcha understand...?"

In a perfect world, Glad-One's view held merit. Hell, it was even something to aspire to. But this was not a perfect world, however -- nor was it fair, or kind, or just. It was Pandora, and she was proven to be a fickle, bitter mistress that cared not for those beyond her 'divine' bias.

Alas...

He rolled his optics and glanced over just in time to see David topple Goliath, somehow feeling empty despite Glad-One's innocent praise. "Yeah, yeah, you're freakin' welcome, kiddo..." the android grumbled, once again sour in the face. Scaramouche didn't have the PSU to tell Junior that one 'good' deed does not a functional society make. "Just make certain your picture captures my good side, all right? I'm not in the mood for a tiptoe through the coals..." Anyway... Approximately .233 seconds passed before Scaramouche realized nothing else would happen. No blood. No guts. Not even the telltale flicker of auxiliary systems kicking online. "Huh, well how 'bout that? It actually worked..."

Welp! Guess that means it was finally time to zippity-doo-dah on outta here, because his circuits were jumpy and he sure as Hell didn't feel like staying up in space any longer than he had to.

“Thanks for the help, I’m Alita. Nice to meet you guys”


...Or not.

The android winced -- bleurgh, introductions!! -- and daintily hopped down from his perch, already turning away on those dazzling heels. "Nice to meet'cha, Alita. I'm Leavin'. Ta-ta~!!"

Hey, Scaramouche wasn't a complete jackass.

He at least tossed in a wave and a smile (no matter how forced the latter was...)!
 
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Alita

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Robots were designed to serve and not go ballistic. This giant one seemed like he had a malfunction and decided to go on a rampage for no reason, still at least no one was injured during the attack. Ali had fought against bigger and more enticing foes, but this one made her feel a bit uneasy. Despite its size it looked calm when it first laid eyes on the Battle Angel, but then suddenly it went amok! The only way to find out exactly what had happened to him, is to hand him into the authorities and let someone like her father to search through the robots programming and find out why he went berserk. Alita cared for all kinds of life, be it humans, cyborgs or full robots, she wanted to protect them all. Seeing the two robots together made her remember her own world.

Suddenly after an introduction the little feller and the samurai robot wanted to leave! This course of action made her look a bit confused, but then again both of them did have a right to go back to their business. Ali couldn’t stop them from leaving, but still she owed them one. With her attention looking down over towards the deactivated robot, the young cyborg said.

“Hold on a second, are you guys curious as to why he went berserk like that?”
 
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One-One

Infinity Train
The Ball of Mixed Emotions
Posts
188
Location
Definitely somewhere strange!
Pronouns
He/Him
Species
Robot
Occupation
Delivery 'bot and maitre d'
Alignment
Neutral Good
Profile
link
Organizer
link
Directory
link
Character Development
link
"Fix what!? You ain't fixin' this place, squirt -- no one can, and, unless the powers that be get off their hoity-toity asses and take a look-see outside their gilded bubble, this world's gonna suck for the rest of us, AKA: the dregs of society!! What part of 'low on the cosmic totem pole' don'tcha understand...?"


The change in One-One's demeanor was almost immediate. His white optics shifted to make for a very strange yet familiar expression, little muffin-makers paused in their kneading, and the little sphere shrank back into the crux of Scaramouche's elbow. Twice in one day, daddy had snapped at him. Whereas before he had done something wrong to deserve the chiding... The little robot wasn't sure what he'd done wrong this time. All he wanted to do was... help! That robot was like them, something was very wrong, and they couldn't just let him wreak havoc when it seemed he could not control himself! Why did daddy resist helping that other robot so much...?

"..." Aside from an uncomfortable wriggle, One-One didn't answer his father's question. He truly wasn't sure how to. If... they were truly the lowest of the lows, then they must help others who were low on the totem pole! And yet Scaramouche made it clear that he very much did not want to hear about it... He'd already done enough and really wanted to leave. Aside from not wanting to get scolded again... The little 'bot just wanted to help daddy now. Deliver the ramen, go back home, maybe crawl into the trash can for a bit...

"Yes, daddy..." Okay, picture first! Then moping in the trash can to ponder over what had gone wrong. He threw in a small wave at the woman before daddy turned on his heels and began to walk away, the drained 'bot thinking that perhaps that was the end of that. Alas, the lady wanted answers. Glad-One couldn't blame her, but she clearly wasn't aware of daddy's spoiled mood. Shifting in his father's arms so he could peer back at her from around his father's form, Glad-One sighed softly. "I am curious about why he went berserk..."

"But it's no longer our problem. And besides, we're already late for our delivery. We promised our daddy that we could go, so we're going. Good luck, I guess." It was the end of their part in this chapter. He retreated out of the woman's line of sight, pressed against the other robot's jacket, and closed his optics. So many questions were brewing in his strange little processor, but this was not the time to ask them. Patience was a virtue, and One-One would wait for the right moment to learn what had really happened today.
 
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Scaramouche

Samurai Jack
The Assassin with the Sassin'
Posts
155
Location
anywhere the wind blows
Species
Android
Height
8'
Occupation
"Problem" Solver
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
There it was again...

Was it anger?
Confusion?
Fear...?

He couldn't comprehend it -- and that, perhaps, was the most unsettling realization of all.

"Hey, c'mon... Don't look at me like that. It's not so bad, all right?" The android flashed one of his lazy, half-cocked grins as if hoping, desperately, that copious amounts of shallow bravado would magically make all this discomfort just -- poof! -- disappear.

But, he knew better. And, in some ugly, roundabout way buried deep beneath mountains of denial, he knew One-One did too.

There was no going back from this.

Not now.
Not ever.

The smooth legato of ruby heels died quietly into obscurity, drowned out by the cacophony of rushing vehicles, bustling feet, and the ever-present knell of looming dread.

"Look..."

A heavy breath slowly left the android's nostrils as he and baby 'bot now saw eye-to-eye, their foreheads pressed gently against the other in a tender vow of penance. "If I tell you what you wanna know," Scaramouche spoke softly, his voice hardly above a crackle of static, "will... will you forgive me for losing my temper? Will you forgive me... pumpkin?" Perhaps the tiny robot would, perhaps he wouldn't. For now, Scaramouche didn't have the capacity to deal with anymore uncertainty piled high on his plate.

"But it's no longer our problem. And besides, we're already late for our delivery. We promised our daddy that we could go, so we're going. Good luck, I guess."


Mm... but that needed to be nipped in the bud lickity-split.

He looked up to the sky and winced. Jeez Louise, why was fatherhood so painful...? "Ugh, this is so gonna bite me in the ass, but oh-freakin'-well." And lo, surprising everybody in the room, the android pivoted on his flashy kicks and soon stood beside the heroic Alita, robot and cyborg standing shoulder-to-shoulder in a rare display of solidarity before their downed, lifeless foe. It wasn't as groundbreaking as it looked, but hey, it definitely beat the alternative.

"...Nah, not really~!" the android cracked a grin at her, shrugging. "My kid is, though. He's a real curious cat, this one~! Can't keep him satisfied worth a damn." Scaramouche playfully laughed at his own stupid brand of humor and kept the heehawing down to a tolerable minimum, self-aware enough about the obnoxiousness of his voice. "Anyway, let's do-over. I'm Scaramouche," he sniffed, offering his hand for the cyborg to shake. No tricks, no gimmicks -- just a chunk of warm, blemished aluminum. "And this here's One-One. Pleasure to meet'cha, Alita. You're not half-bad on your feet! ...Y'know, for a wannabe." And he meant that sincerely.

...Er, but not the slur! Deeeeefinitely not the slur.
(Okay, he kinda meant the slur...)

Scaramouche made a slight face at his goofum and loudly cleared his vocalizer before anyone caught on. "A-ha-hem! Anywho...~! Thanks for not, like, killin' the poor tin can. He couldn't help it. None of 'em really can, y'know, babe?" The android spoke no more of the subject and instead shuffled his feet like an awkward tyke. "A-Anyway, I guess now we just, um, call the local clean-up crew and put him in the tank to sober up, huh?" he asked, looking to Alita for confirmation.​
 
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One-One

Infinity Train
The Ball of Mixed Emotions
Posts
188
Location
Definitely somewhere strange!
Pronouns
He/Him
Species
Robot
Occupation
Delivery 'bot and maitre d'
Alignment
Neutral Good
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Character Development
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"Hey, c'mon... Don't look at me like that. It's not so bad, all right?"


Neither half of One-One could conjure up a witty response. Or... any response, really. All he could do was stare at his father with that same perplexing expression before hiding his face behind his nubs. Despite Scaramouche's assurances, it certainly... felt bad. There was something... here, he could almost feel it! Daddy was displeased, and it had something to do with that robot, but why?

A-and the delivery, they had the delivery...! It was already late! Was Mommy going to be mad too? He didn't mean to, truly he didn't! Quivering against his father's jacket, the little robot's movements became fitful. He felt encompassed by a sinking feeling, oppressive like ink! Both halves felt trapped, too emotionally raw to fight against it. What was this unfamiliar feeling...? Making Daddy late for his delivery... Getting Daddy involved in something he didn't want to. Stirring up bad feelings in him. Wandering off.

One-One wasn't being a very good son, was he?

"Look... If I tell you what you wanna know, will... will you forgive me for losing my temper? Will you forgive me... pumpkin?"


Tink!

Lo, that was all it took to bring the little sphere back to reality. The ichor of guilt peeled away like layers from a cocoon. White optics blinked, assessing his surroundings for a moment before they settled upon his father, and the scene before him. Their foreheads were touching lightly, Daddy's hat sliding on top of One-One's form. He was... asking for forgiveness? Whatever for? R-right, right, the... losing his temper part. After only a moment's thought, both sides easily came to an agreement. His optics shifted down, resembling closed eyes. His nubs reached out to caress what he could reach of his father's face, pressing and leaning his metal shell against Scaramouche's.

"Always, Daddy. Always." Glad-One's warm voice reassured his father, tone genuine with love and affection. There was no hint of resentment, nor doubt in Scaramouche's own love. Just... a pure trust in his father. Even if the other robot had gotten snippy, it was hardly a habit for him! All it meant was that something had truly unsettled Scaramouche. Whatever that was, he still didn't entirely understand but... It didn't make him love his father any less.

"I won't, uh... rush you for answers, pops. I know this is hard for you. We can go slow." Sad-One chimed in, voice still rather dull but tempered with some uncertainty. Unlike his twin, he had a few more guesses as to what exactly had bothered his father. All hypotheses, of course! In time, he would see if he was right. Being right wasn't very important right now though. Taking control to pat the top of his father's head, Sad-One continued. "I like to get your goat, pops, but I didn't mean to actually upset you. Will you... forgive me, too?"

Pleasantly reconciled and assured of their love for each other, One-One naturally assumed that this was where they would part ways with Alita and their strange robot friend! Daddy, however, was full of surprises. "Daddy?" Scaramouche abruptly pulled a 180 and the little robot was silently glad for his lack of a neck! Rather than leave the robot behind, the taller robot decided to intervene and help out after all! Shuffling in his father's arms, the little robot had perked considerably while his father schmoozed with Alita! Perhaps this little tale might have a happy ending after all!

...

Then again...

Just as it had been with the wizard, the lizard, the princess, and Not-My-Mom, Alita had been there one moment and the next... poof. Nothing. As if they had been speaking to thin air. Yet their mechanical friend was still present, still on the ground, still damaged. The balloon that had been One-One's lifted spirits had just been popped. Fifth time was the charm, though, and the little sphere's only reaction to Alita's sudden departure was a soft sigh. Was it a good thing that he was getting used to this...?

"..." Glancing between their broken friend and their father, One-One soon shifted in his father's arms to peer up at the taller robot. "Don't worry, Daddy. That lady might not have wanted to stick around to help us, but..."

"-I'm still here." Sad-One finished, resolute. He snuck another peek at the other robot, his upper optic shifting to resemble a tear drop. "I mean, I have no idea what to do, but... I'll help. Like, I can talk to mom and explain what's happening so she doesn't get mad at you. You didn't do anything wrong." The only thing he had done, was try to help another robot in a world that was quickly becoming cold and distant to them. Even the crowded city of Elysium seemed to become more of a background to them, as they were left to try and fix this situation. Despite being out of their depth, at least they had each other.


YU7hroK.png
 
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Scaramouche

Samurai Jack
The Assassin with the Sassin'
Posts
155
Location
anywhere the wind blows
Species
Android
Height
8'
Occupation
"Problem" Solver
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
It was said that every story came with an end, and that every end came with it a new beginning. But, what if, both beginning and end instead came without either, and that every chapter thereafter filled the body of a story with nothing?

What then?

"Will you... forgive me, too?"

"O... Of course." The words tumbled like crumbs of bitter chalk upon his tongue. And yet, despite it all, despite the distress simmering in the deepest recesses of his screaming silicon soul, the android meant every troubled, frightened letter as if they were to be his very last. He licked his lips free of dryness and willed himself to suffer those same words again, this time with the hefty weight of more characteristic vim and vigor -- and absent the comforts of both ignorance and pride.

"O-Of course I forgive ya, peanut. In a heartbeat, no questions asked," Scaramouche answered firmly, grateful for a second chance.

Such reassurances were as much for One-One as they were for him, but the lil' tyke was clever. Somehow, in his own scatterbrained way, both halves of One-One had already made quick work of their father's devil-may-care façade, for a robot was nothing if not ever astute.

Knowing this, he pressed feather-light angel kisses on those fitful, tiny nubs in hopes of seeing their agitation quelled, and forced his processors back to face the ugly reality before them. "Hm, no... No, I suppose she didn't," Scaramouche murmured quietly, observing where the cyborg had once stood, forlorn. Never had he met a wannabe he well and truly liked; one way or another, be it because of their questionable origins or their wavering identity, they had always managed to disappoint. "Hmph. But, I guess that serves me right for placin' my trust in a skinjob..." His optics narrowed and no more did Scaramouche spare the processing power to condemn someone who couldn't be assed to follow through.

The android instead directed his gaze forward, to the bustling metropolis sprawled unto infinity and to the teeming bodies that desecrated its corpse like insects, and only took note of the downed machine at the last possible, agonizing second. His optics seemed to flicker, and his head seemed to hum.

"It's okay, kiddo. I've already called for help. They'll be here soon," Daddy Dearest said. He spoke no more of the subject, nor of what that 'help' entailed. It was, after all, as his son had wisely said, and even a colorful fool like Scaramouche knew better than to tempt fate after the first prick. He simply found a clean(ish) patch of concrete edge to sit on and kept remarkably still, the delivery order the furthest thing from his mind.

And it's failure, a distant second.​


((OOC: That picture...!! ;~;))
 
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One-One

Infinity Train
The Ball of Mixed Emotions
Posts
188
Location
Definitely somewhere strange!
Pronouns
He/Him
Species
Robot
Occupation
Delivery 'bot and maitre d'
Alignment
Neutral Good
Profile
link
Organizer
link
Directory
link
Character Development
link
Forgiveness. Of course, One-One had complete faith that his father would forgive him for... well! Pretty much everything that had happened today. It had been his fault that they even got tangled up into this situation, and lo, it was his fault that they were stuck holding the bag. Stuck here instead of delivering the food like they were meant to do. He appreciated that his father would not hold a grudge, though some guilt did linger. It was clear that Scaramouche was upset.

As for why daddy was unhappy...

Both halves silently considered the possibilities and decided that there wasn't just one reason for their father's subdued demeanor. Try as he might to hide it, both sides could tell their father wasn't feeling well. Was he let down by Alita's vanishing act? Did he have strange mixed feelings about their robot friend? Were worries of 'the wrath of mommy' bearing down upon that long neck? Was he scared of getting a bad review for the shop?! Affection stirred One-One from his pondering, as he giggled warmly with every light kiss. For a moment, he wondered what it'd be like to return such a gesture. Both optics became happy little crescents, before he followed his father's gaze with a narrowed stare.

"Hm, no... No, I suppose she didn't, Hmph. But, I guess that serves me right for placin' my trust in a skinjob..."


Protective indignation ignited in the little 'bot, who reached for his father with tiny nubs and two wide optics. "Oh daddy, it's not your fault...! You were just trying to be good and give her a chance! I'm still so proud of you for helping her the way you did." It had been a surprising turn both times that Scaramouche had done a switch to helping Alita out. For whatever private daddy reasons he had, the taller robot had decided against it and tried to lend a helping hand to his fellow robot!

Just a shame that reality didn't always like to reward such altruism. His upper optic shifted, the circle pinching down to resemble a pie with a slice missing. "She's the one who decided to get involved, beat up a defenseless robot, and then disappeared like a fart on the wind. She should be the one feeling like junk, not you." Was One-One a biased party in this discussion? Oh yeah. How could he be anything else, seeing that look upon his father's face? It was as if Scaramouche's hopes had been dashed.

Goodness, and he was so quiet...

No singing, no trilling, not even a hum. Well, there was an odd hum to come from his father, but it wasn't a musical one. "Oh? Like, the cops? Or perhaps a doctor for robots?" Glad-One inquired innocently, blinking up at his daddy. Sad-One was tempted to crack one of his usual 'the man can't be trusted' sort of statements about Scaramouche calling in authorities of some kind for this, but the sullen nature of the other robot kept him quiet for once. In the end, the little robot resolved to make himself comfortable on his father's lap, muffinmakers doing their best and most diligent work. All other thoughts seemed to go on standby as the robot narrow-focused on one singular goal:

Help make daddy feel better.
 
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Scaramouche

Samurai Jack
The Assassin with the Sassin'
Posts
155
Location
anywhere the wind blows
Species
Android
Height
8'
Occupation
"Problem" Solver
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
"Oh daddy, it's not your fault...! You were just trying to be good [...]!"

Good.

Just trying to do something -- ....

For the longest second, Scaramouche said nothing to his wonderfully naïve, well-intentioned son. In a perfect world not like this one, today's outing would've ended on a high note. A robot wouldn't be openly rampaging on the street; a cyborg wouldn't be a cyborg; and everyone would be home with their families just in time for dinner. Fido would even have a new bone waiting for him in his picturesque doghouse out back. Instead, it fell short of promise and ended with the deafening silence of what everyone dreaded deep down in their hearts, just before their minds turned off for the night: realism. The android's optics flickered downward, reflections of zooming hovercraft and neon light painting his glass LED display.

"Yeah, somethin' like that," he murmured halfheartedly to the smaller robot. Good... Evil... For what it's worth, they were just made up words for a made up thing. People were just trying to survive; to see another day. There was nothing good or evil about that. He quietly chuckled upon hearing the word 'fart' and 'wind', his humor still juvenile as ever, and took comfort -- however temporary -- in lap-muffins of only the most highest of orders. For someone without thumbs or digits of any kind, One-One was surprisingly adept with his wee appendages.

"No. No cops," Scaramouche shook his head. Pigs would just make things messy, let alone start asking questions. But, as for a doctor? "Well..." The android seemed to consider the notion; ultimately, however, he shook his head a second time and did what parents facing uncomfortable situations did best.

"How about a game?" he asked. "Whoever can sit still the longest, without sayin' a thing, wins an ice cream cone of their choosin' after we make our delivery, startin' now."

One-One's modest order of [INSERT ICE CREAM FLAVOR HERE] had already been filed.



"Hey. Hey, you. Wake up."

Scaramouche abruptly roused from sleep mode and barely had time to process the command. Had he nodded off...? "Yeah, yeah. I'm up, buddy, I'm up," the android replied, staring down at what he assumed was an organic. You could never tell with these new-age augs. Upon closer inspection, Scaramouche could tell -- and rather quickly -- that the organic was a man in sullied overalls who probably had a dozen or more better things he could be doing right now than being here. Couldn't blame him. He didn't want to be here, either.

"Uh-huh." The man simply grumbled and whipped out a metal clipboard. "Listen, are you the guy who called this in?" he asked, engrossed in his chicken scratch.

The robot didn't so much as bat an optic. "Yeah, I did," Scaramouche answered, blasé.

"Uh-huh. And I assume there's no owner on the premises, or anyone who could lay a reasonable claim on the salvage?"

At this, the android was quick to answer. "Look, I called it in, I give ya the deets, and I've been standin' here waitin', hopin' someone would turn up." Spoiler alert: nobody did. Scaramouche killed the pause quick and hammered the final nail in today's coffin. "There's nothin' else you need to worry about," he said, "so just collect the guy and we'll be on our merry way, thanks."

Brown eyes peered from beneath the man's oil-stained hat. But, he said nothing, thankfully, and scribbled one last note on his very important invoice. "Uh-huh. Well, can't say I've ever expected one of your kind on these calls, but I guess even a machine's gonna eat. Here, for your troubles." The man ripped out the piece of paper and folded it neatly into the android's awaiting palm, along with a couple of crisp bills. "Pleasure doing business with you," the man remarked. His eyes then drifted slowly to the white-and-black ball. "Is it also...?"

"He's not on the table."

The answer was curt enough to dissuade any further negotiations. "Uh-huh. Sounds good." With a shrill whistle and a twirl of his finger, the man turned to his crew and gave the all-clear. "You heard 'em, boys! Pack this bad boy up and let's roll!"

By the time the tow truck came beeping onto the scene, Scaramouche was already gone; the world was a few degrees safer, and the android was a few hundred richer.

In an imperfect world like this one, today's outing had ended as expected.

Realistically.​

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One-One

Infinity Train
The Ball of Mixed Emotions
Posts
188
Location
Definitely somewhere strange!
Pronouns
He/Him
Species
Robot
Occupation
Delivery 'bot and maitre d'
Alignment
Neutral Good
Profile
link
Organizer
link
Directory
link
Character Development
link
"Yeah, somethin' like that,"

Not even Glad-One's pep talk could lighten their father's spirits! Despite the growing urge to launch into a longer monologue about the valor and greatness of Scaramouche the Amazing, the little robot held his metaphorical tongue instead. It was becoming clear that words weren't going to heal whatever was bothering Daddy. A very worrisome realization to have. At least humor still reached him, and affection was always a lovely balm! But oh... how the little robot wished he could singlehandedly assist his father, make him feel better.

"Very smart, Pops. Never trust a cop, that's my motto." Sad-One boasted with artificial smugness. He had many supposed mottoes, but he honestly just wanted to see Scaramouche crack an amused little smile. Both halves listened, curious to hear who exactly was going to come for their friend, but alas... The innocence and gullibility of youth and inexperience.

"How about a game? Whoever can sit still the longest, without sayin' a thing, wins an ice cream cone of their choosin' after we make our delivery, startin' now."

"Oh, oh, oh! I like that game, daddy, I like it a lot! I'll have a rainbow sherbet, please!"

"Ssshhh, he said starting now, you gotta be quiet or else we'll lose...!" Sad-One hushed himself, settling comfortably in the crook of Daddy's leg as he settled in for the long haul. After a moment's pause, he piped up one last time with a hushed whisper. "I want moose tracks." ... "Please." He can be taught!



At some point during the silent game, Daddy had nodded off. For the best, it had been a rough one for them today. Scaramouche needed the sleep and so One-One pulled double duty; he was both partaking in the silent game (by still being very quiet!) while also watching over his father's slumbering body. He did not move from the other robot's lap, did not peep. Usually the little dodo would have retreated into his own imagination or perhaps even taken his own nap, but...

Hm.

Today had been a day full of surprising realizations, twists and turns that had taken the duo (trio?) off of the path they were supposed to take. There was much to ponder, far too many questions lingering in his processor that kept him from taking refuge in imaginary friends or made up stories. It felt far more important that he keep watch over Daddy to keep him safe. Which is why, when a mysterious man approached and began to wake him up, the little robot made a soft razz in the man's direction as his nubs curled protectively in his father's coat.

Despite the fact that One-One had already won their game as soon as Scaramouche responded back to the stranger, the sphere kept uncharacteristically quiet as the two talked back and forth. Round white optics were attentive, flickering between the two. This was... the man? The one who would help their robotic friend? Why was he being so unfriendly?

Owner...? Wait, salvage? But didn't that mean--?

His little 'heart' sank so far, it landed right back on Pandora's surface. What would happen to their robot friend? Salvage had many meanings, it didn't have to be all bad...! And yet daddy's demeanor as well as this man's behavior... and the exchange of money only made the entire thing all the more sketchy. Why was this weird man giving Daddy money for being a good Samaritan?

"Is it also...?"

It...? One-One's optics changed to resemble tear drops as he dropped his gaze down to the floor. He caught his father shutting the man down, even reminding him that One-One was no 'it', but the damage had been done. This man was not a good man. And they were letting him keep their broken robot friend. Why would they do that? Allow this man to help the strange robot when he didn't even view them as anything more than... than... objects?

Daddy knew best, he always knew best! So then why... was this the path that Daddy chose...? Trying to riddle out his father's thought process was a confusing affair. As always, he felt as though he were missing out on something. Something huge. Important. But... If Daddy didn't want to tell him, he wouldn't push. Not yet. Perhaps someday. For now... As they put the man and their friend behind them, moving forward to at last make the delivery, pick up ice cream, and explain the situation to Mummy, One-One nuzzled ever closer to his father and kept his peeping to a minimum.

Whatever was going on, he had only absolute faith in Scaramouche's judgement. He only hoped that one day, Daddy would allow him to be in on it. To at last explain his big, important, seemingly always robot related secrets. Perhaps if he was really good? Maybe if he asked for extra chores? The two halves silently plotted and schemed for ways to get onto his father's good side, and soon the matter of the broken robot was pushed to the very back of his processor.

And yet... not forgotten.
 

Current Season

Status Updates

sorry to the people i'm writing with, kind of all over the place lately. trying to work it out and get back to normal soon hopefully.
So sorry for the recent slowness! I'm gonna post hoard through the weekend and try and catch up in one fell swoop to reset a bit.
// if I disappear, I should be back this Saturday :) //
Zhongli wrote on Howl Jenkins Pendragon's profile.
hOW REMARKABLE THAT I MAY FIND AN EXCEPTIONAL WARLOCK SUCH AS YOURSELF ON THIS EXTRAORDINARILY CONVENIENT PLATFORM AS WELL.
SonicSora wrote on insomniacowl's profile.
watch yourself, little man, i'll get your clown shoes

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