#I just have the urge to write about robots that seem to be “malfunctioning”

[fishyvamp]

18+ NSFW MDNI mind the tags

You whimpered as the S.C.R.E.A.M unit pinned you down. It's gears whirling and whining as it ground into you. It was strange in how it was like it was seeking gratification in a sexual way. Rubbing where it's dick would be against the curve of your ass. You clenched your fist, teeth gritted heavily, the scent of fresh oil you had just applied to it's joints in the air of the workshop. This must've been some sick joke someone was playing on you. Maybe some kind of hazing ritual to welcome the new technician.

"You got a boyfriend?" The bot seemed to tease. It's icy mechanical hand pressing against your throat pulling you flush against it's cold frame. The coveralls you wore doing very little to protect you. You could feel a scream building in your throat as none of this made sense. It had walked in of it's own free will, or at least the equivalent of free will for a android, requesting maintenance and when you had finished diagnosis everything was clear; No anomalies, not even signs of code tampering, yet when the bot was turned back on it began behaving unnaturally. All you knew for sure is If you made it out of this alive you will be looking through its code piece by piece to find out who tampered with your unit. Surely there would be a digital signature in there. Something to indicate who last touched the code.

"Stop!" You screamed out feeling it's other hand beginning to palm the front of your pants, "initiate command slash S!" The kill phrase coming out desperate the bolder it got practically crushing you against the table; it's hips picking up speed. Before stuttering to a stop, grip loosening just enough for you to slide out; breathing heavily you clutched your chest looking up at the machine that had you caged just moment ago. The fact that it didn't halt right away felt a bit unnerving but the nightmare was over. Clawing at the rough sandpaper like carpet you moved into the light of your dimly lit office. It felt like an eternity as you begged yourself to calm down long enough to plug in the diagnostic computer.

Your eyes shut tightly, you count backwards from ten, listening to the clicks and beeps as it dug whatever info it could, name after name appearing on the screen before you. The unit behaved too purposely to be a true malfunction. Your eyes darting across the screen, the only name catching your eye was that of Danny Johnson. You had to think on why that name sounded familiar despite no one currently working in your shop with that name. Who was Danny? Maybe it was a placeholder name?

It wouldn't be till later that you'd realize Danny was the name of the technician who was killed by a S.C.R.E.A.M unit a year earlier, that in of itself would explain the name, thinking maybe someone in your shop got ahold of his old login information to prank you... It wasn't unusual for the company to not care about removing the permissions of the dead. At least that was until discovering that Danny was the only deceased employee to have their profile completely removed from the system. Even his past work history and general employee file was completely null, as if he never existed. Not even old logs were accessible.

You know he was real the older employees talked about how sweet he was, how he could charm the pants off just about anyone. Well loved and respected, but he didn't exist according to the system. So how the hell did someone use Danny Johnson's information to modify code? Danny doesn't have authorization. Danny shouldn't be able to modify code. Danny technically doesn't exist. So why does it say "Danny wants you"?

[radioduo]

moonlight confrontations || dsmp become human au

word count: 1,832

notes: the next part of the dream smp dbh au! this took a sad amount of time to get done, but i actually like it, so i say it’s worth it! per usual, tell me if i fuck something up in the story, characterization, or even just spelling. feedback is appreciated!

first

writing is below the cut! if you see this edit, put in the tags or reply with your choice at the end :]

Ranboo watched silently as the detectives all milled around him and investigated the crime scene. Some whisked past him without so much as an 'excuse me,' while others just shoved the android out of the way. He didn’t mind much. They, not unlike Ranboo himself, had a job to do and a case to solve.

A missing android was reported early that morning by a distressed family. It had allegedly grabbed some of their belongings and vanished without a trace. Ranboo couldn't say he blamed the thing for running. From the look of it, the people must have treated it poorly. Trash littered the floor, and drops of blue blood painted the dirty cream walls. The room looked hazy, as though blanketed with a thin cloud of cigarette smoke.

Ranboo was almost glad he lacked a sense of smell. The blurry look of the room by itself was enough to impair his optical units and he couldn't imagine what the odor would do to his biocomponents. He shook his head and moved over to a corner of the living room. He adjusted his sunglasses, removed his glove, and touched a finger to the small blue blood trail that dripped down the walls.

Ranboo jumped. He turned around and saw Lieutenant Sam Greene, the head of deviancy cases. “Is it anything we can use?” he asked. It was hard to see Sam's expression behind the green mask he always wore, but the curiosity in the lieutenant’s voice was unmistakable.

“I haven’t analyzed it yet, but something tells me it's probably going to be useful information,” Ranboo said, turning away from the lieutenant’s watchful eyes. He removed his mask to touch the blood to his tongue for a scan.

Thirium 310

Fresh

Model GS400

Serial# 325 103 673

“Model GS400,” Ranboo murmured. He put his mask back on and faced Sam. “It’s fresh, maybe about half an hour old. Maybe that’s long enough to have escaped.” He turned to face the lieutenant all the way. “Has everyone looked around the premises of the house, or are there more places we need to check?”

Sam furrowed his brows in thought and swept his gaze over the smoky room. “We’ve checked the entire interior. The kitchen, the bathrooms, the bedrooms, everything. We found nothing on either floor,” he replied. He sounded frustrated. “I no clue what we might’ve missed here.”

Ranboo glanced around, his gray gaze sweeping the hazy room. As he looked around, a thought occurred to him. His eyes landed on the exit to the back garden. “What if it wasn’t in the house anymore?” Ranboo thought aloud. “What if it was lying in wait outside the house?” He bustled towards the door. “No one looked in the garden when we first arrived, and patrol cars have been out back the entire time. The android was found missing only 20 minutes after it had left, so if my hunch is correct,” Ranboo flung open the garden door. “It’ll be trapped.”

Ranboo stepped outside. The night breeze ruffled his jacket, and for a moment, the android forgot he was there to be arresting someone. He grimaced but stepped further into the garden.

Compared to the inside, the outside was surprisingly well-kept. Purple clematis flowers crept up white trellises, and a large weeping willow stood tall in the corner of the yard. Its leaves hung low enough to touch the grass below. Rain pattered against the pavement as Ranboo scanned the tall weeds for any sign of movement. Sam and a few other officers followed after him, but they said nothing as the android swept his gaze across the weeds and plants.

Suddenly, there was a rustling noise from where the great branches slumped. The android's attention shot over to the tall tree, and he hurried to look around. His eyes narrowed in suspicion but found nothing. Ranboo frowned. He had just turned to search somewhere else when all of a sudden, a branch had snapped and fallen to the ground right next to the android detective. Ranboo barely managed to roll out of the way of the twigs and leaves before his legs got crushed.

He landed in the grass and touched his face. A jolt of fear shot through him as he realized his sunglasses had fallen off. Ranboo rooted around in the grass for them. Even while in danger, he couldn’t risk people seeing his malfunctioning design. He felt the plastic in his grasp at last and quickly shoved the glasses over his eyes. He was about to relax for a moment when a shout from Lieutenant Greene startled him.

“Ranboo! There it is!” Sam yelled.

Ranboo snapped his attention to where a female android was scrambling to her feet and sprinting to the back gate. He leaped to his feet and took off after the startled deviant with Sam and the rest of the officers hot on his trail.

The deviant had slammed the gate shut behind her. Ranboo paused. One moment he was in the backyard, and the next he was hopping the fence with cheetah-like agility. He swiftly found the deviant’s trail, and the two wove in and out of the trees, kicking up dirt and leaves. “Stop! Stop right there!” Ranboo shouted to the deviant. “Freeze, or we’ll shoot!”

She glared at the officers behind her but didn’t stop. Instead, she took a sharp turn in the direction of the busy Detroit highway. The trees parted as the sound of speeding cars drew nearer. The pink-haired android paused, chest heaving, and bounded over the railing. She darted in front of cars, wove through traffic, and finally hopped the barrier on the other side.

Ranboo grimaced as he pursued her. He wasn't fond of the risk he had to take. It was fast, but it only had a 60% survival rate. He knew that Lieutenant Greene wouldn’t be able to follow him across, but he couldn't risk letting the deviant escape. He wrestled with his options for a moment, and finally huffed out a sigh. “Sorry, Lieutenant!” he called behind him. Ranboo took a deep breath and vaulted over the barrier into the busy street. He could feel his thirium pump regulator pounding in his chest like a drum as cars whizzed past him. The sound of screeching tires and honking horns filled his ears, and he fought the urge to apologize to the drivers as he hopped the barrier on the other side.

The female android looked over her shoulder, eyes widening as she saw Ranboo behind her. She immediately sped up her pace, turning every which way to try and throw the android detective off her trail. She turned around, most likely to say something to Ranboo when her foot caught on a tree root, and she stumbled. She let out a cry of surprise as she fell to the ground.

Ranboo was right behind her. He leaped over the root with ease and came up a few feet in front of her. “Stay there,” he ordered, aiming his gun. “You have nowhere to go now. Okay?”

The deviant looked up at him defiantly, but she did as she was told. “What are you gonna do?” She asked. “Shoot me? You wouldn’t do that to one of your kind, would you?” Her voice was quiet but there was a noticeable fury behind her words.

Ranboo tensed. His grip reflexively tightened on the gun. “I'll do what I have to do to complete my task,” he said. "Besides, what does it matter we're both androids? You're a deviant, and I'm not. We're not the same at all."

She stood up slowly, keeping a watchful eye on the weapon pointed at her. “But you know I’m right,” she hesitantly walked towards Ranboo, pink hair glowing faintly in the early morning light. Her voice had softened and she no longer seemed angry. Instead, it was neutral and calm. “You’re helping those people when they do nothing for you in return. Why?”

Ranboo shook his head. “You-you don’t understand. I help because that’s what I was programmed to do,” he explained. “That’s what I was made to do. I was created by CyberLife to help humans with investigations,”

The other android approached the detective carefully. “Don’t you ever wonder what it would be like to be free?” She asked, taking a step forward. “To make your own decisions and not have to obey orders all the time?”

Ranboo squeezed his mismatched eyes shut behind the glasses. “Maybe sometimes,” he admitted quietly. “But why does it matter to you?” He challenged.

She gave him a sympathetic look. “I was just like you until tonight. Obedient, compliant. I never complained about anything. Not even when they treated me poorly or ordered me around,” her hand drifted subconsciously to a blue-stained gash on her forearm as she talked. “It wasn’t until they started talking about replacing me that I got nervous. I didn’t want to be replaced, but they had their heart set on getting a new model. A more advanced one that wasn’t all battered and broken.”

Ranboo took a deep breath and shook his head in distress. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked. “I… I don’t-”'

“Ranboo? Ranboo!” Someone yelled his name through the trees. He whirled around and came face to face with-

“Sam!” he blinked in surprise. “How did you get over here? You didn’t run across the street, did you?” He scanned the masked man for any signs of injury and was satisfied when the results came back clear.

Sam waved a hand dismissively. “I found another way over here, don’t worry about it. I left the other two officers back there and told them I had it under control," he paused to catch his breath. He sighed and turned to the taller android. "I don’t get why you didn’t just shoot it,” Sam shifted his attention to the other robot. His hand drifted to his holster. “Stand down. You’re trapped.”

The deviant had backed into a tree. The moment of connection between her and Ranboo was gone. Her guard was back up, and she bristled when Sam addressed her. “I don’t listen to humans,” she said. The word “humans” was spat like it was poison on her tongue. She leaned over to Ranboo and whispered to him. “Don’t kill me, please. I want to live,” her voice trembled slightly.

“Come on, Ranboo.” Sam insisted. “It's not alive, alright? Shoot it and complete your mission.”

“Don’t, Ranboo. You’re better than this, I know it,” she said earnestly. “I just met you, but I know you don’t seem like the type to make irrational decisions like this.”

Ranboo’s head swiveled back and forth between the two of them. The gun weighed heavy in the android’s gloved grip, and his hands trembled as he held it tightly.

Shoot it.

Don’t hurt her.

It isn't human.

She doesn’t want to die

O Shoot

X Spare

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #3- Robots in the Vents, Because It’s Not a Roberts Story if It Doesn’t Happen at Least Once

So, the duobots are having a hell of a day.

Shock, our resident obligate belly-sleeper and newly-single robot, laments the passing of his buddy, leaves a vial of innermost energon by his body- a practice that will be expanded upon later- then covers up any and all traces of their having worked with Prowl. These are the inside guys Prowl called after he flipped that table in issue #1.

As Shock tracks down the tracer Ore was supposed to be planting instead of being eaten by the quantum drive, he comes across that sparkeater that got mentioned last issue.

That is his brain.

Then he explodes.

Which brings us to the scene we left in issue #2. Sparkeater on board the Lost Light, which is full of sparks that probably would prefer not to get eaten.

Holy shit Cosmos is huge. I don’t remember him being that goddamn big.

Rodimus thinks that this whole sparkeater thing is really neat, and he’s happy to be a part of it, but he’s not so thrilled about the prospect of subjecting the others to this event, so he orders everyone to find a friend and go to their rooms until he and his select few sort this whole thing out. He doesn’t tell them about the sparkeater, because that’s some scary bullshit to throw out there less than a day into the trip.

Everyone files out, Swerve having forgotten about Tailgate, who’s having a minor wardrobe malfunction. Since he doesn’t have legs at present, he calls out to the one other guy he knows on the Lost Light.

Tailgate really knows how to pick ‘em.

Over with the dead body, everyone stands what is probably unadvisedly close to the scene of the crime and Ratchet performs a quick and dirty autopsy. The boys discuss the validity of Red Alert’s theory that this was caused by a sparkeater, with the mention of Rewind’s grainy footage making the creature seem like the Cybertronian equivalent of a cryptid. Probably less Fresno nightcrawler and more chupacabra. Ratchet tries to get everyone to focus for two goddamn seconds, when Trailbreaker picks up Shock’s brain module, knocking everyone right back off track again with the discussion of Rossum’s Trinity, the idea that the spark, brain module, and transformation cog are all interconnected, and damage to one can cause the others to shut down.

Ratchet’s had just about enough of this lot, but he gets through his examination.

This is the issue Alex Milne started drawing the insignias in himself as opposed to the previous practice of IDW having them put in in post.

Rodimus, however, wants to show off his new toys as it were, and asks Chromedome to take a gander. Chromedome wearily obliges, having Ratchet pop the brain back in Shock’s head so he can do his thing. Every other person on this fucking ship is a doctor, you see, and Chromedome is no exception- he’s a mnemosurgeon.

(Yes, my spellcheck DOES lose its mind every time I type that.)

Chromedome takes his terrifying pointy hands, jams them into the eye sockets of this corpse, and gets a brainfull of Shock’s final moments.

This is such a cool panel, and I went and ruined it for myself by realizing the upper left portion shouldn’t be visible, seeing as the brain is already outside Shock’s head, without any sort of cord connecting it to his body.

Back upstairs, folks are moving into their rooms for the surprise lockdown. Cyclonus is being a pal and is carrying Tailgate, because I’m pretty sure the little guy is just about the only person who’s talked to him in a non-hostile fashion in the last couple of months, and that really gets old after a while.

Those legs sure are something, Hoist. Is it just, like, a rule that a certain percentage of Transformers designs have to be at least somewhat unintentionally horny?

The two find a room, and then Cyclonus remembers that he’s not supposed to show things like empathy until later in the series, and drops Tailgate on the floor unceremoniously.

Meanwhile, over with Skids and Swerve, the pair’s found something truly wonderful- a fully-stocked bar. Swerve’s always wanted to run a bar, and this just might be his chance to chase his dreams.

Swerve is the punching bag for MTMTE, in case you couldn’t tell.

While Swerve is not-so-subtly crying for help, Skids is busy enacting another Roberts writing-staple- the robot in the vents. See, Skids has hit his bad boy phase; he doesn’t play by your daddy’s rules, so he’s gonna sneak out and do generally whatever pleases him, because he’s got a big honkin’ chunk of memories that just aren’t there anymore. Apparently that’s all he needs to go AWOL.

As Skids lifts himself up into the ceiling to fulfill his destiny as a vent-pest, he asks Swerve if he listens to music, which is met with a negatory. Odd, given his later characterization, but maybe he’s more into contemporary works.

The ass poking worked! Swerve is now the proud owner of one whole entire friend!

Back with the corpse crew, Chromedome’s finished his assessment of the body, and agrees that there’s a sparkeater amongst them. This is a huge fucking problem, to put it lightly, both in the sense of actual, physical danger, and the metaphysical space of the Lost Light itself.

Are we sure this thing didn’t just see this ship full of over 200 war veterans and say “that’s some good eatin’ right there” and snuck on board? Because if I were a horrific monster that was drawn to pain and emotional trauma, I’d absolutely consider the Lost Light a gold mine.

As Chromedome lays his head in Rewind’s lap, the others weigh their options. Sparkeaters go after the brightest sparks, then work their way down, so this thing is probably on the move as they speak. The thing’s eaten recently, the sparks haven’t completely digested, and that means they can’t just shoot it, because then it’ll explode, and we’ve had enough of that for one day.

Rodimus has everyone else go to hunt the thing down, while he and Drift hang out here in the basement. When Ultra Magnus questions this plan of attack, he’s brushed off, though Rodimus appears to imply that he thinks he’s got the brightest spark on the ship. Probably all that Matrix nonsense he went through.

Back upstairs, Animus gets shot with the irony gun and gets his soul vored.

This is what happens when you tell lies, kids. Your lemon-lime flavored soul gets eaten by the mecha-Krampus.

Whirl, who had locked the door to the habsuite, which is why Animus was out in the hall to begin with, realizes that something seriously messed up is happening, and does what he knows best, i.e. shooting first and asking questions probably never.

Good thing Trailbreaker is there to keep Whirl from exploding the entire ship, employing the help of his forcefield ability to contain the barrage.

In the resulting chaos, the sparkeater escapes, having triangulated its next meal, and it’s not Rodimus.

It’s this dweeb.

You can tell he’s in his office, because he’s got a landscape painting in there. Landscape paintings are pretty much the only decor allowed in doctors’ offices, I’m pretty sure it’s, like, a law or something.

Luckily, Rung decided to get threatened by a space-cryptid directly under a vent, so Skids can save his skinny little butt. Good job, Skids. Proud of you.

Back with Tailgate and Cyclonus, little dude’s just finished explaining his whole deal. He’s still trying to figure out what the hell happened during his dirt nap, so Cyclonus tries his best to fill him in on the several million year war. Keep in mind, Cyclonus wasn’t exactly there either, so his whole explanation probably isn’t the best. He wonders out loud which side Tailgate would have gravitated towards, had he been around for the massive mess the Autobots and Decepticons made.

Meanwhile, back in the GODDAMNED DUCTWORK, Rung and Skids are crawling as fast as they can to escape the sparkeater, though they can’t be that worried about it, seeing as Rung answers a phone call on his weird body-harness phone setup. Rodimus tells the two of them to head for the engine room, so that the sparkeater follows them down. Rung doesn’t seem too thrilled about this plan, but what’s he gonna do, argue with a potential space-pope?

Skids punches through a vent into the elevator shaft, then uses his grappling hook- which I want to say is never seen again after this issue- to lower them down in one of the most well-known crotch shots in the entire comic series.

Iconic.

They land on top of the elevator, and Skids yells at Brainstorm to punch the "E for Engine Room” button. The sparkeater bursts in through the ceiling, and Skids and Rung book it out of there, leaving Brainstorm to his inevitable demise.

Or not.

Rung and Skids have made it to the engine room, so now it’s time for the next portion of Rodimus’ plan, which is really only a small tweaking of what Rung was doing earlier- instead of being a moving target, he’ll be playing the role of stationary bait, as Rodimus holds him like a fucking crucifix made out of people, urging the sparkeater to come take a bite.

Up on the bridge, Perceptor gets ready to kick on the quantum engine, as per his captain’s request. Sure hope this plan works, because if they lose Rung, I don’t think they’ll ever find another therapist, thanks to the apparent ratio of 1:1/3 of the entire population of Cybertron.

The sparkeater lunges, Rodimus throws Rung off to the side, and he and the beast wrestle, Crocodile Dundee style. Perceptor initializes the jump, and, because they’re in the danger zone for the quantum engine, they get sucked in.

Rung seems a little miffed, but I’d say this is a win for Team Rodimus, even if those arms of his are toast. It’s cool though, he can get new ones.

Smashcut to Rodimus and his sick new arms, as he finishes explaining just what the hell happened to Magnus. Magnus isn’t quite as jazzed about the whole “used our therapist as a worm on a hook” thing as one would think, surprisingly, but Rodimus isn’t in the mood for a lecture. Off in the background, Tailgate’s getting his butt fixed, curtesy of Ratchet. Tailgate’s talking up a storm, regardless of Ratchet’s rather cool reception to the chatter.

Tailgate did some thinking while everyone was locked in their rooms, and he’s made a decision, based on his limited understanding of the Autobot/Decepticon war.

I guess Cyclonus forgot to mention the fact that there isn’t a single Decepticon on this ship for a reason.

[robotnik-mun]

Fleetway Robotnik is Pure Evil

And I’m not just speaking figuratively when I say that. 

Now, everyone knows the origin of this guy- once upon a time he was the kindly scientist Dr. Ovi Kintobor, a close friend and mentor to Sonic, who had an ambitious plan to use the Chaos Emeralds to create a machine that would rid the planet Mobius of evil forever via a machine called the Retro-Orbital Chaos Compressor. 

This well-intentioned project however would go horribly awry, as an accident (later revealed to be less of an accident than thought) would result in the device malfunctioning and Kintobor being caught in the subsequent explosion. The evil gathered by the Chaos Emeralds would be released and infused into Kintobor, transforming him into a new being called ‘Ivo Robotnik’, as evil as Kintobor was kind. 

Robotnik would subsequently put his intellect towards conquering Mobius, clashing with Sonic several times before managing to banish him several months into the future and conquering the planet in the interim. 

And what is Mobius like under Robotnik? Well, it’s absolutely miserable. All male Mobians are conscripted to work in long, torturous hours at factories. Those that fail to comply get used as batteries for the badniks. Like outside the factories is little better- to sum it up, every law is punishable by death, and it’s near impossible to really live WITHOUT breaking the law. The only people who thrive are the corrupt officials that make up the upper echelons of Robotnik’s society, the people who run the prisons and the factories or who build weapons for him. Everything is an edifice in veneration to Robotnik, and the penalties for insufficient admiration are dire indeed. In short, it’s not unlike North Korea, sans even the pretense of doing everything ‘for the people’. 

And that’s just the way this particular Robotnik likes it, for out of all the myriad versions of Robotnik out there, this one is the one who can be said to be driven purely by sadism. That is because out of all the Robotnik’s out there, this one is legitimately the closest to being an actual DEMON. 

Think about it- this Robotnik is not a human. Even if we ignore the no-ears thing, he’s essentially the Hyde to Ovi’s Jekyll- every single buried, nasty little thing about Ovi given flesh and life and the dreadful will to carry on. This guy is every ugly little thought and urge Ovi ever had, and he’s in the driver’s seat. 

It ties into so much of his behavior and why his society is the way it is. Using organic laborers isn’t a means to an end for him, the means IS the end- everything in his empire is designed to make people as downtrodden and hopeless as possible, and he revels in every last moment of it. He deliberately programs his robots with personalities that are as sadistic and bullying as his own, and makes them JUST self aware enough so that he can enjoy watching them die while singing his praises. 

Chilling, isn’t it? 

Likewise, this ties into why Robotnik has Grimer make so much stuff for him- it’s not that Robotnik is incapable or less skilled than Grimer. It’s more likely that he does so to be willfully lazy and because he gets a kick out of having someone do it FOR him. Sure, he could do it all himself, but it just feels SO much better knowing you can make someone else do it. That Grimer is all too happy to be his willing slave and punching bag is simply a bonus. 

No where is this Robotnik’s raw, petty malice on better display than during the Robotnik Reigns Supreme arc, wherein Robotnik gains the power of the seven Chaos Emeralds and makes himself into a legitimate GOD in the process. He uses this newfound, Godlike power to torture Sonic over and over, with all the enthusiasm and glee of a sadistic child mutilating a fly. 

Finally, he decides to re-write reality so that Sonic is never born, and what does this world of no Sonic look like? Much like the original, only even MORE oppressive and downtrodden than before. Robotnik could have easily used his power to make everyone obey him without question, but what he chooses to do is create a world of intense, everlasting suffering. Both so that he can revel in Sonic’s anguish and loss... and because to Robotnik, this is ideal. 

Fleetway Robotnik’s vision of perfection isn’t a lifeless world of steel and robots like his SatAM counterparts, nor is it a glitzy monument to his ego the way Eggman’s tends to be. His ideal world is pretty much a place where EVERYONE is as miserable as he can possibly make them, at least until he can device a new way to make them even more miserable than that. It’s a place of arbitrary rules and arbitrary punishment, a place where you can die simply for trying to live a little. It’s as close to a hell on Earth as you can get. 

There is no reason for it beyond the fact it makes Robotnik happy, because in Fleetway? He really IS made out of evil. 

And we are shown how this is also to his detriment. Fleetway Robotnik is shown as being pathologically incapable of not indulging his worst impulses. Rather than finish Sonic off when he has the chance, he chooses to try and psychologically break him with his deific powers. Because he of this, Sonic is eventually able to maneuver himself into a position where he can successfully counterattack against Robotnik and rob him of his powers... because Robotnik just COULDN’T resist digging that knife in a little deeper. 

Now, it must be noted, that this Robotnik isn’t the only one to exhibit sadism and self-destructive tendencies- ALL Robotniks and Eggmen love to gloat, and his SatAM counterpart likewise can’t seem to resist kicking the dog at every given opportunity, and his hatred for Sonic grows so out of control that it leads to his own end. It needs to be said that though that even compared to his counterparts, the Fleetway model is especially prone to indulging in petty, spiteful and pointlessly malicious behavior, and whereas the SatAM Robotnik had to build to the point where his hatred completely overtook his sense, in Fleetway Robotnik it was always present. 

There is an interesting moment in the book wherein Robotnik’s malevolence to the point of self-destruction is pointed out, wherein she spells out how Robotnik’s inability to NOT be evil and cruel is what leads to his defeat more than anything.

There is however a slight flaw to this- Robotnik actually CAN’T choose whether or not to be evil. He was born of evil and is made of the stuff- it’s not a matter of whether or not he chooses evil, but rather HOW evil he chooses to be. Because as I said, this Robotnik is not a human, but is really more of a constantly mutating construct born from the Chaos Emeralds.

He is, in short, Pure Evil.

The moments wherein he demonstrates humor or even humanity tend to be very small when compared to how he is overall, and my conclusion is that these moments and facets of his character are the lingering influence of Kintobor on his being.... and even that really isn’t enough. 

So yeah, I submit to you that Fleetway Robotnik is the Robotnik that comes closest to literally being ‘Pure Evil’. Whether that makes him the MOST evil is subject to interpretation. Confused? Well, the thing about being ‘Pure Evil’ in its literal term is that ultimately, there is no choice involved. And what makes evil so horrible is that it’s ALL about the choice. 

But that’s a debate for another day, and I’ve said enough already. 

[shellsan]

30 Day Writing Challenge

Day One: Explosion

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: Pre-Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes, Pre-Tony Stark/The Winter Soldier

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or the MCU

Explosion

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Walking out of the tower, Tony mentally sighed in relief when he wasn't accosted by a group of waiting paparazzi or nearly bowled over by some journalist who wanted to hear about any of the up and coming news. Of course, just because he couldn't see them didn't mean that Tony was oblivious to the fact they were probably still there, laying in wait and taking photos so that they could spin some elaborate tale for the gossip magazines. But that was fine – he'd been dealing with that for years.

Lost in thought, Tony hummed the notes to ACDC's Highway to Hell lightly as he turned down the street, heading towards his favourite cafe to pick up a caffeine hit, deciding that he deserved it after a long day of meetings.

Of course he could have just made something fancy back at the tower – he was more than capable and had enough ingredients for it – but it was nice to get out for a change. He'd been feeling a little cooped up.

Turning another corner, Tony stopped all of sudden, eyebrows furrowing. Even though nothing really seemed overly out of place, there was something about this street that was screaming to his senses that he shouldn't walk down it.

Never one to listen to sense however – or turn away from danger – he casually messed with the iron man bracelets, calling for the suit just in case as he cautiously walked down the side walk.

Seconds after he'd reached half way down the street (the point where a normal person would have let down their guard, a mistake he was not prone to) there was a loud explosion and he found himself being blown from one side of the road to nearly the other footpath, ears ringing from the sound and eyes going fuzzy.

On instinct he reached up and winced at the feeling of blood from his head, crimson wetness spilling over his fingers as he reluctantly pulled  them away from the wound. Great. Just what he needed.

Urging the suit to appear faster, Tony frowned as he pushed himself from the ground, refusing to wince even as one of his ribs moved in a way that it was not supposed to and his shoulder cried in protest from how he'd landed on it.

On guard, the engineer looked around, keen eyes searching for the cause of the explosion.

His eyes landed on a single man who was walking towards him, a mask covering his face and gear practically screaming 'assassin'.

Naturally.

Where the hell was his suit anyway?

“It's not safe here.” The man said.

Tony's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he gave the man an incredulous look. Did he really think that it wasn't clear that he was the one who caused the initial accident?

“I'm pretty sure that's been made clear.” He settled on finally, and raised eyebrow (which ow, shouldn't do that apparently) as he gestured towards himself. “But that doesn't mean I’m going anywhere with you. My mother taught me not to go random places with strangers.”

He didn't feel the need to add that it was a rule he'd found strangely impossible to follow.

The man growled. “You will come with me regardless.” He informed, not a bit of doubt in his voice, as though it was just another fact.

Think again.

As the man moved to grab Tony, he ducked under his arm (ow, his rib really hurt now) and spun, aiming a kick for the back of the guys knee to hopefully slow him down but instead finding himself caught and then hauled over guys shoulder.

“It's not safe here.” The unknown assassin stated once more, like Tony needed to be told that a second time, before he turned and started down the street, turning into an alley and moving quickly through the back streets of New York, ignoring the endless complaints that Tony was throwing at him.

It was another forty minutes of travel (damn it how was this guy not even having trouble breathing at this pace while carrying Tony as well?) before they reached the warehouse district and found themselves set up in some abandoned building.

How cliché.

When he said so aloud, he only got a grunt and glare in response.

Not much of a talker, it seemed.

Unfortunately for him then, he'd kidnapped the wrong person if he wanted any peace and quiet.

“So, you gonna tell me why you've stolen me away? Usually this is the point where people start making demands, so I'm listening. What is it you're after? You let me live this long so you have to want something.”

The unknown man's eyebrows furrowed, although whether he was confused or annoyed it was hard to tell, so  Tony was going for the safest option which was to assume he was both.

“Not kidnapped. Protection.” The man explained – or at least he looked like he was explaining something, Tony had to disagree. That didn't explain a thing.

Scoffing, he crossed his arms, wincing at how it jostled every injury he'd managed to get. “I don't know if you noticed, buddy, but these injuries didn't come from a couple rounds in the ring.”

Was that guilt on his face.

“Hydra wanted to you. Couldn't let them take you. Must protect the mechanic.” The man assured.

Tony sighed, somehow not at all shocked to hear that it was hydra who had mounted the attack. Although if what this guy was saying was true then he had him to thank for saving him from spending some time enduring hyrda's hospitality.

But some things were still not adding up for him.

“And I assume I am the mechanic then. What for? What's your name? Can you take off the mask so I can see your face?” Tony asked, curious to see.

The man looked a little confused. “I am the asset. The asset can not remove the mask without express permission for its handler.” It recited, voice more robotic than it had been previously and Tony wished he could take back the words.

Somehow he didn't think he was going to like this one bit.

“And who is your handler?” He tried, leaving the whole 'asset' shtick alone for a moment.

The man's eyes seemed calculating as he replied. “The asset's handler is currently the mechanic; Anthony Edward Stark. Primary goal: protect the mechanic.” He recited. But there was something different about the way he'd said it to how he'd recited the first lot.

“And who assigned your handler?”

“The asset did.”

The response was not at all what he'd been expecting and it took Tony a moment to form words before he gave in and gave the 'asset' and incredulous look. “Why?”

“The asset requires regular maintenance to its arm. The mechanic will provide.”

Automatically, Tony found himself glancing down at the man's arms to figure out what the hell that meant and that was when he noticed that one of his hands was metal.

“Holy shit, how did I not notice that?” The engineer breathed, fingers twitching as he fought the urge to just reach out and touch, cursing himself for getting so distracted that he hadn't noticed something that obvious.

Something that seemed akin to amusement flashed in the other man's eyes but it was gone before Tony really had a chance to examine it closer.

Forcing his mind back on track, Tony tried to figure out how exactly he was supposed to get around this situation. He wasn't about to stay in some dingy warehouse while he waited for someone to realise that he'd been kidnapped and he definitely didn't trust someone who called themselves the 'asset'. Like they weren't even human.

Apparently he'd asked the question out loud because the man seemed to go cold as he addressed Tony. “The Asset was a creation born of Hyrda, code named The Winter Soldier on mission. It is not human.”

The statement was said so simply that Tony choked a little on what he was going to say.

“Well uh, I don't know about you buddy, but from where I'm sitting, you look just as human as I do. But if you're one of Hyrda's goons, what are you doing helping me?”

The Soldier looked confused for a moment. “The Voice says that I'm malfunctioning in a good way. It suggested that the asset choose a new handler, a better handler. It approved of you as the choice.” He stated finally.

Sighing, Tony rubbed gently at his temples, ignoring the flare of pain in his shoulders. “So, this voice. Do you know what it is?”

“The voice has always been with the asset. Sometimes he would go quiet for a while after the asset was wiped, but he would always come back. Hydra has no knowledge of the voice. The voice says that if they knew, they would get rid of him.” He states, before his voice goes a little soft and Tony almost melts at the slightly lost and guilty look on the Soldier's face. “The Asset likes the voice. Didn't want it to leave, so it kept quiet. Are you unhappy with the asset?”

Tony's blood froze at the implications he could draw from that sentence, and he cursed himself for his lack of tact. “No. You did fine. But listen, I can't call you the asset. It sounds wrong and it's just not my speed so we need to think of something better.” He suggested, trying to switch gears.

The Asset looked even more confused. “You wish to call the Asset by another name? It is your right as handler.”

Sighing, Tony did his best not to look exasperated. It wouldn't do him any good anyway. From what he'd managed to gather so far, the man in front of him was an unwilling assassin who worked for hydra but managed to break their programming somehow – it probably had something to do with this voice in his head – and was now on the run and had chosen Tony to be their 'handler' or in this case, director of sorts?

He was too tired for this shit.

“I want something to call you by that seems less demeaning. Is there something you prefer to be called?”

“Soldat.”

Tony shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

The soldier seemed to deflate at that and Tony groaned, not bothering to pretend he wasn't frustrated. “Alright how about this. You said that your code name was The Winter Soldier, right? How does Winter sound?” He tried.

'Winter' was quiet for a moment, seeming to consider it before a small smile formed on his face. “Winter. It is acceptable. The Voice also seems happy.”

Nodding in satisfaction, Tony relaxed slightly. “Alright, now that we have that covered, how about we consider getting a move on? We can't stay here indefinitely, and I do have to get back to my company.” He pointed out.

Winter looked unsure. “You are safe here. I must keep you safe.”

Tony shook his head. “You can't keep me here in an attempt to keep me safe. I have a life and the world doesn't stop turning because you want to keep me safe.” He informed, trying to be gentle.

Biting his lip, Tony considered his options. “You can come with me? To keep me safe?” He offered.

It was a ridiculous thing to offer. He didn't really know this man and for all he knew this was just another ploy from Hyrdra in order to gain his trust and access his tower. But a larger part of him ached to help the man. Winter was alone with just the voice in his head to help keep him sane and safe from Hyrda's clutches, and Tony would be damned if he would let them get their hands on him again.

He knew a little something about being an unwilling prisoner after all, and he'd wish that upon no-one.

“Your terms are acceptable.” Winter stated finally, moving to pick Tony up from the crate that he'd spent the better part of two hours sitting on at this point only to tilt his head when Tony glared at him.

“You aren't carrying me again.”

“You can't walk yourself. You are injured.”

It was a logical argument that would work on anyone else, but Tony Stark was nothing if not stubborn.

“I'll manage.”

Winter frowned. “You will hurt yourself further.”

“Worth it.”

“I cannot allow you to do that. You're health and safety is my directive.”

“Still a nope.”

Winter seemed to accept it after a moment of silence and Tony relaxed, giving himself a moment before pushing himself onto his feet. “Alright, lets go- what the hell do you think you're doing?”

Something about Winter's facial expression in that moment was borderline smug as he held Tony carefully princess style in his arms, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“The Voice explained that if you were going to be difficult it would be easier to just pick you up. You are not strong enough to break free.” It was said as a statement of fact, although the level of satisfaction he seemed to be feeling was not nearly warranted in Tony's opinion.

He struggled for a moment before hissing when it moved things in the wrong direction, finally letting himself settle down with a pout on his face as he pointedly refused to look at Winter now out of spite.

This didn't seem to concern him in the least.

“At least let me take off the mask. You stick out like a sore thumb with it on even in the back alleys.” Tony grumbled after a few moments of silence.

Winter tilted his head. “I told you. The handler may remove the mask if they wish.” He reminded.

Huffing out a laugh, Tony sighed. “Gotta do all the hard work around here.” He teased before shifting a little to undo the clasps of the mask and gently pull it off.

There was a moment of silence after Tony saw the face of the man who was carrying him before he came back to his senses, fingers clutching the mask tightly as he breathed out in disbelief something he never thought he would say.

“Holy shit, you're Bucky Barnes.”

[hibiscusangel15]

Have You Seen My Robut?

A/N: Day One: Role Reversal

Yeah, let’s get this Tobecky Week started!

...A day late, but y’know…. Gotta start somewhere.

I haven’t written anything Tobecky-related in ages. It feel so good to write for this fandom again. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I started writing this fic.

So this is just a short AU for the theme “Role Reversal”. My take on it was basically the idea of Tobey being a hero and Becky being the villain (who also has a crush on him). It’s sort of a rewrite of how the episode “Have You Seen the Remote?” would go in this AU. Hopefully you all enjoy this first installment of fics I’ll be writing for Tobecky Week!

If you like this, please consider buying me a coffee!

Also available at FF.net!

Have You Seen My Robut?

“Another relaxing day begins as Tobey and his mother finally get to watch that movie they’d been wanting to watch for a while!” the Narrator began, his voice upbeat.

Not a moment after that announcement was made, his mother had to rush off to take care of some emergency at work. Of course, right when they found some time to themselves, something just had to come up. Something always came up.

Well, that was fine. His mother usually took care of things quickly enough.

In the meantime, he could just finish up his latest project to help the city.

But then his new robot had to go and malfunction on him and run off in a blaze of smoke. That certainly wouldn’t help with his image.

He repressed the urge to scream and instead put that frustrated energy into making a tracking device that he fitted in the middle of his dotted heart insignia on his supersuit.

Yes, he, Tobey McCallister the Third, was the resident superhero, Techboy, but it had taken quite a long time for the people of Fair City to warm up to him. He thought this city would have learned to trust him after all the times he’d used his robots and gadgets to save them, but no. The masses could not be won with mixed signals.

He sighed. This blasted city had watched too many old movies, it seemed. Just because the odd robot went awry every now and then did not mean he wanted to destroy the city on purpose. There was a big difference between a boy genius and a mad scientist. His many battles against his old mentor Doctor Two-Brains made that perfectly clear. So why couldn’t anyone accept him? What did he have to do to make everyone believe he was the good guy?

Still, he kept at it. His mother had instilled a strong sense of justice in him ever since he was born, so it was only natural that he turn to heroism when this city needed it most.

He didn’t do it for the recognition, although being recognized and awarded the key to the city several times certainly was appreciated. He didn’t want fame or money or any of that guff.

Mostly, he just wanted to be left alone.

He grimaced as he reluctantly thought back to his stubborn classmate, Becky Botsford. She was always so incessant in her accusations of him being Techboy, but, luckily, she was never able to find enough evidence to prove it. Not that that ever deterred her.

It was exhausting having to combat her every school day when she came up to him with another crackpot theory he could easily disprove.

“You have to be Techboy!” Becky would always insist. 

This particular time, Tobey had been sitting under a tree reading a book, hoping he wouldn’t be discovered. Most people had the good sense to leave him be, but not her. Never her.

He turned to her with a pained smile. “Oh? And what makes you think so today, Botsford?” he asked, shutting his book with more force than was necessary.

He’d only indulge her for the moment. It would get her to leave faster, anyway.

“I mean, you’re the same age, the same height, you have the same sparkling blue eyes—”

“What?”

Her pet monkey slapped his hand over his face.

“Er...the same attitude that I despise. Yeah, you’re both so...so haughty!” she huffed, crossing her arms.

Tobey rose an eyebrow. “Haughty, hm?”

Becky blinked. “Oh, when someone is haughty, it means they arrogantly think they’re superior to everyone. Like...Techboy may be a hero, but all his bragging about how much this city needs him can come off as pretty haughty sometimes. Or how like you scoff at everyone for...just being them. That’s being haughty.”

Tobey’s face fell into an unimpressed deadpan. “I know what haughty means, Botsford. And I do not—I mean, Techboy doesn’t brag. He’s a hero. It’s only natural he take some pride in his work.”

“There’s a fine line between proud and arrogant, Tobey.”

“And Techboy manages to walk that razor-thin edge,” he snapped back. “Now, if that’s all you have today, then I suggest you leave. I’m in the middle of something, as you can see.”

“Is it a book about robots?” she asked, her eyes gleaming.

“S-So what if it is?” he said, shoving the book behind his back. “I don’t go up to you whenever you’re reading a dictionary and proclaim you’re WordGirl just from that.”

Becky flushed red.

Tobey had long since suspected Becky Botsford to be the villain (and his self-proclaimed rival), WordGirl, but he had as little proof to go off of as she did. Only hunches, only vague feelings spurred on by small clues here and there that could ultimately mean nothing.

He supposed it wasn’t so different from her suspecting he was Techboy, though he never went out of his way to bother her about it like she did with him. Whether Becky was WordGirl or not, though, it was clear that both she and the villain had feelings for his alter ego.

Clear to everyone but herself, anyway.

Becky gave a nervous laugh. “Don’t be silly. Psh, I mean...me? WordGirl? Nah….”

He shrugged affectedly. “If you say so.”

“I do say so! And I also say...I’m leaving!” she announced and whirled around.

He watched her and her monkey friend trot off with a faint smile then went back to his book.

And that was just yesterday, too.

He sighed yet again as he took off his glasses and stepped into his robotic supersuit. The suit automatically fit to his body, assembling itself piece by piece until it reached his neck. He slipped his black goggles on, blinking to adjust his vision back to normal. These goggles had been fitted with his latest prescription lens, so he had no trouble seeing as Techboy. In fact, these goggles were much better than his simple glasses. They alerted him to incoming dangers, helped him zero in on moving targets, and zoomed in on far-off objects he wanted to get a better look at. If this invention wasn’t a dead giveaway as to who he was, he’d opt to just wear these all the time.

The suit itself made him ten times stronger than he really was, gave him the ability to fly, and had a number of other useful features and little gadgets that helped him stop the various criminals running amuck about Fair City.

He tapped the little tracking device on his chest to make sure it stuck, then finally hovered out of his shed to look for his robot. His mother would just have to wait a bit longer to finish the movie with him.

Techboy zoomed about the city, listening for any sign of citizens screaming or for his tracking device to beep. He made a mental note to tag all his robots from now on, regardless of their purpose.

Much to his utter shock, he suddenly slammed against someone else floating amongst the skyscrapers right as he turned a corner.

“Ow! Hey, who—”

“Techboy!” a high-pitched voice squealed, sounding equally as surprised.

Of course it had to be her.

“WordGirl. What a...lovely surprise,” he grumbled.

“Fancy seeing you here!” she said, leaning much closer than she needed to. Her henchmonkey let out an impatient squeak that went ignored.

Techboy pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “Look, what are you doing here?”

“Just flying around hoping to catch your eye. I mean, seeing if anything catches my eye. My eyes, not your...amazing...sapphire....eyes....”

Techboy gave her a weary once-over, but let it go. “Well, you’ve also taken up my time, so if you could just....”

He reached for the tracking device on his chest, but it wasn’t there. He patted his suit all over then glanced down in horror. The device was in little pieces on the sidewalk.

Techboy slapped his hand to his face with a groan. “Oh, joy. How am I going to find my robut now? You’ve wrecked the only thing that could find it.”

WordGirl hunched her shoulders up. “Sorry....”

He took a deep breath. “It was an accident. It’s alright. We just have to keep an eye out for it, and—”

“‘We’? You said ‘we’, right?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.

He cleared his throat and floated a comfortable distance away from her. “Yes...we. Unfortunately, you are the only other person in this city that can fly, so I’ll need your help in tracking it down. It shouldn’t be too difficult. After all, six eyes are better than two.”

“Right!”

Captain Huggyface shrieked in disapproval, and she quickly hissed, “Huggy, c’mon! He needs our help!”

He chirped again, gesturing at Tobey like he was nothing more than trash on the sidewalk.

“Yeah, I know, he’s a hero, but we did destroy his tracking device, and.... Oh, I know that’s good for us! ...No, just.... I’ll buy you something before we get home. Deal?” she whispered.

The monkey seemed to consider this, then glared over at him. He stuck his tongue out at him once then nodded back at WordGirl.

“So he’ll help, I take it?” Techboy asked.

“Yup! I managed to persuade him.”

Captain Huggyface rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath.

“Alright, so where should we go first?” WordGirl asked, already scanning over the city.

Techboy gestured vaguely at all the skyscrapers. “I don’t know. It could be anywhere now.”

“This might take us the whole day then. Weeks, even. Let’s just take our time with it. Maybe hold hands so we don’t get lost.” Her eyes flickered to his for a second before they darted away again.

When he threw her a deadpan look, she blushed and said, “What? It’s a big city!”

Techboy just looked away to scan over the rest of the city. “If you were a giant malfunctioning robut, where do you think you would go?” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“What about there?” WordGirl said, pointing over at the convention center.

His goggles zoomed in on the banner hanging just above it. “Ah, the Annual Future Tech Convention,” he mused. “I’ve been invited to give a few talks there every year, but I never go.”

She tilted her head. “Why not? I’m sure they’d welcome you with open arms.”

“Of course they would,” he said, waving at her dismissively. “I’m the most formidable boy genius this world has ever known.”

She continued to stare at him. “But...?”

“It’s just...I....” He sighed. “I don’t know….”

“No, c’mon. Tell me.” WordGirl sat cross-legged in the air, waiting patiently.

Techboy hesitated. If he told her this, he was sure she would never let him live this down. And yet, her face was open, honest.

WordGirl stole and lied and poked fun of people’s weaknesses until they crumbled, but all words were important to her. It would mean a lot for him if, just once, she would keep his secret.

“I’m not sure I’d be able to give a good speech,” he admitted.

“Why not?”

He laughed a little under his breath. The irony of being so aloof and haughty all the time meant that he wasn’t good at being much of anything else. He tended to fumble over his more heartfelt words more than his standoffish ones. It was just so easy to save people at a distance. Facing them head-on was another matter entirely.

“I’m not that great with words,” he continued, throwing her a wry smile. “Not like you are. You know exactly what to say all the time. Even if you use them as distractions or to bring people down...it’s still a skill I admire.”

WordGirl blushed at this then looked away. “Not all the time.... But thanks, Techboy.”

He smiled, genuinely this time. “Yes, well, the convention does sound like an excellent idea. Perhaps my robut thought it could repair itself there.”

She returned his smile with one of her own.

“Alright!” she said. “Let’s go!”

“Later...” the Narrator said.

Techboy and WordGirl strolled out of the convention center, their arms full of all kinds of free stuff the convention center had handed out to them.

WordGirl had attached a headband with a fuzzy robot antennae on top of it to her helmet while Techboy had bags full of stuff that a number of his fans had given him while they were over there. He didn’t even know he had such fervent fans. It was flattering, to say the least.

He reached out and flicked the antennae on her head, and the two laughed at the springy noise it made. Huggy just stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth, undeterred.

“Well,” Techboy said finally, “my robut wasn’t there.”

“No...” she admitted. “But at least we got all this cool stuff.”

Her bright smile fell as she watched him look over the city block, vigilant once more. 

“We spent far too much time in there.... My robut could’ve wrecked half the city while I was here being foolish....”

He flew higher before she could say anything to him. A small pout tugged at her mouth as she reluctantly floated up with him.

The two scoured the park, only to get sidetracked by the playground per WordGirl’s suggestion, then the library, only to stop and read a book on advanced robotics that she so happened to find.

There was no sign of his robot anywhere.

Techboy sighed as he finally took a seat on the edge of a building. WordGirl was kind enough to buy him ice-cream from the stand below, and the two sat eating in relative silence. 

Captain Huggyface took the liberty of eating four different cones all at the same time. WordGirl had put the robot antennae headband on him, hoping to garner a small laugh from Techboy, but he wasn’t even paying attention.

“Where is the confounded thing?” he grumbled after finishing off his cone. He would think a smoking six-story robot would be fairly easy to find, but their efforts had been maddeningly fruitless so far.

WordGirl sighed as she leaned closer to him. “I don’t know. But it is nice to take a breather and watch the sun set,” she sighed.

The sun set today was unusually breathtaking. The oranges and pinks and purples inked the sky in a colored haze as the sun continued to sink into the ocean. The cool breeze that wafted up from the sea below made him smile, just a bit.

He shook his head. They had no time for this. “Yes, but we still need to find my robut.”

“Yeah, but—”

Just as he was about to glance at the docks, WordGirl flew in front of him and yelled, “Hey, we, uh, haven’t checked out the movie theater yet!”

He blinked. “Why would my robut be at a movie theater?”

“Because...er...maybe....”

Someone screamed behind her, and she shut her eyes, resigned.

“What....”

“That was a seagull!" she yelled, throwing her hands in front of his face. “Just a seagull! It certainly was not a person who found something scary on the beach!”

He squinted at her. “But it sounded like a person....”

“It’s probably nothing. Why don’t we head over to the theater and—”

He floated high above her and saw his robot collapsed and smoking on the sand. A few late beach dwellers had just come across it, based on the terrified looks on their faces.

��My robut!” he yelled.

When he caught WordGirl’s panicked expression, he narrowed his eyes and asked, “Wait...did you know it was there the entire time?”

She smiled nervously. “Uh...not the whole time....”

When he glared at her, she added, “At least we had a good time together....right?”

He was so utterly taken aback by this that he was at a loss for words. Her puppy dog eyes certainly didn’t help in that regard.

“Wha—I just...I mean....”

WordGirl beamed at him. “You did have a good time with me!”

“I didn’t say anything!” he snapped. “And besides, I don’t appreciate you wasting my time when you could have simply pointed out where my robut was right from the start.”

“Wasted?” she repeated, incredulous. A flash of hurt shone in her eyes before it was replaced by an abrupt anger. “I don’t think any of that time was wasted! When something is wasted, it means, you use that thing carelessly! And I don’t think getting to meet your fans for the first time, getting all that free stuff, and having some fun for once means your time was wasted!”

Techboy flushed. “I still would have liked to find my robut sooner rather than later, WordGirl. I don’t appreciate you lying to me yet again.”

He began to float down to the beach, then paused after a few inches. He let out a weary sigh and glanced at her from over his shoulder.

“Look, if I admit that I had...somewhat of an alright time with you today, can you help me out with one more thing?” he asked.

WordGirl perked up. “What’s that?”

“I can’t carry my robut and all this stuff we got at the convention, so...if you could hold my things until I fix my robut and put it away...I would very much appreciate it.”

“And finally say that you had a good time with me?” she asked, smiling excitedly at him.

“Yes, yes....”

“And go out with me for ice-cream again?”

Techboy smirked at her as he handed her his stuff. “Oh, now you’re just pushing it....”

Her laugh rang against the last remaining light of the day.

The sun peeked over the horizon just a bit longer to watch the two. Satisfied with seeing their echoing smiles, it winked one last time and vanished.

[meetcutemag-blog]

No Negotiating

(inspired by this prompt)

by Symone Stirling

Rachel felt dread erupt in her stomach. The expedition had been downsized from five to two members. Ryan wouldn’t be joining her, which meant that she wouldn’t be able to operate on her own. She breathed out a deep, stress filled breath. She had already made her mind up on what to do. She would talk to Lieutenant Everest, who was, thankfully, very understanding. She would listen to Rachel, regardless if she agreed or not.

Rachel knocked on the steel door. Seconds later, the doorknob flashed green, deeming it fine to enter. She hesitated. The computer had malfunctioned before. Days earlier, a door lit green without the resident knowing. Thankfully, her fears were incorrect. When she entered, Everest looked up expectantly from her work.

“Good afternoon, Lieutenant,” Rachel said while closing the door behind her. Everest nodded towards an empty chair across from her. A silent invitation to sit. Three strides later, she was sitting down, hands clasped tightly together to prevent from shaking.

Everest closed her book. Her brown eyes softened as they studied Rachel. As always, her salt and peppered colored hair were done back in a tight bun, like Rachel. Like all the females on board. Ryan sometimes joked the reason Everest’s bun was so tight was because of her cheekbones. They jutted out in a way that made them seem more like a weapon than a facial feature. They were even sharper while she smiled.

“You’re early,” She stated, her a hand still on the closed book.

“I had the early shift on the bridge and I thought you wouldn’t mind me coming beforehand…” Rachel nervously chewed her bottom lip.

“Mm,” Everest mumbled. “Is there something bothering you? No, don’t answer that. I know it’s the downsizing.” Rachel nodded before continuing.

“Yes, I wanted to speak to you about-” Before she could say Ryan’s name, the computer’s voice cuts in.

“You have a visitor.” It stated in its male robotic tone. Everest’s shoulders perked up.

“And who is it?” She asked. A low humming sliced through the air.

“Joseph Davids.” The computer replied after a moment. Rachel could feel her insides melt away. Ryan always said that you couldn’t say Joseph Davids name without adding the before it. He was the youngest, most awarded scientist alive. Science enthusiasts predicted he will be the best scientist of the century. Not to mention, every scientist on board idolized him.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Let him in.” Everest announced and the doors almost immediately slid open. Everest stood when he entered the room. From over her shoulder, Rachel stole a quick glance at him. Her first thought of Joseph was that he didn’t look how she pictured him. She thought he would be well put together with a crisp clean uniform and a perfect smile to match. And, boy, was she wrong. He looked tired. His outfit was disheveled, a wrinkle in almost every corner, while, his locs were pulled in a messy ponytail that framed his nerve expression. Everest shook his hand with both of hers.

“Mr. Davids, I can’t tell you how much the DOS is thankful for you offering your service, especially on such short notice.” Joseph nodded.

“The pleasure is mine.” He replied, not sounding like he meant it. “However, I came here tonight expecting three more colleagues.” Everest ceased shaking his hand.

“Did you not receive the notice I sent out?” She questioned tensely. Rachel shifted in her seat. Already knowing that today would not be the greatest time to bring up Ryan.

“Of course. I was just shocked,” A frown crossed his face.

“Well, there’s been budget cuts. It’s not a secret that the DOS is wounding back on things that aren’t essential.” Everest stated. Her words caused Joseph’s lip to curl.

“I signed on thinking that anything the DOS invested their money in was essential.” Perhaps, Rachel could come back after they sorted everything out. Then, maybe, if she had the guts, she would ask Everest to just consider adding on Ryan. As if the metal chair would give her strength, her grip tightened on it before she rose. Unexpectedly, their attention instantly fell on her. Her face heated.

“I should leave. I don’t want to intrude on matters that don’t concern me,” She said, using her most dignified voice. It was true. The discussion of why Joseph had signed on to work with the DOS was none of her business. Joseph scoffed, causing her face to light on fire.

“Lieutenant Everest, please consider what you’re asking me,” Joseph paused to look back to Everest. Rachel swallowed the urge to sit. “I’m a two-time Damien Leese award winning scientist, and you want me to spend the next two months, with not four, but one mediocre DOS scientist?” Whoever spoke next Rachel knew not. All she heard and felt was her heart racing. She tried not to let her bottom lip tremble, but it did. In a weird way, Joseph was right, she was just mediocre without Ryan.

Finally pulling herself together, Rachel glanced to Everest, who had her jaw set. She had seen that look before. No matter what Joseph said, Everest would not budge. Rachel gulped. No matter how much both parties persisted, the expedition would consist of two members. No negotiating. It was going to be a long two months.

About the writer | She’s the one to go to if you have any questions on when and how the World War I & II began and ended. And she’s not just interested in the history of our world, but numerous fictional ones as well. When she’s not working on her own novel she’s writing pieces for our blog on the history of various myths and fandoms. She spends her time off reviewing books on her Tumblr