#whoever made cogs? who knows perhaps they were made to be work robots

[cathalbravecog]

what do you think both societies would be like if toons and cogs finally make peace with each other and got along? (like with inklings and octolings from splatoon)

ohh!! interesting!! to be honest though, i know nothing about splatoon - but i can still work with this!

thing is, as the game is right now, peace really can't be made because it removes the main conflict that makes toontown, well, toontown - without it there's no gameplay. but imagining an au and a future where cogs and toons get along is interesting!

with my past headcanons i spoke of, i think it'd apply mostly to just toons from toontown and cogs inc or suitopia in general. i'll keep it as just toons of toontown and suitopia in general to keep things a bit easier to speak of since i did state i imagine suitopia as the one place where cogs are while toons are all over the place in different 'toontowns'.

in the case of ttcc (of course), i think it'd have to come with the defeat (or change of heart) for robert. probably not possible for the latter. cogs didn't know much about toons and stayed in their own place until robert and thomas started their company and basically invaded toontown.

i am not sure how that could happen - but i imagine if toons and cogs unite, perhaps they had to go against a third, bigger threat who's after them both. not all toons would agree to make peace with cogs, and not all cogs would be exactly thrilled to have to be friendly with toons -

but in the end it is better for the both of them. the cogs would have retract their invasions, polluting and taken over buildings. however, they don't have to worry about having to be repaired or have pies thrown at them due to a toon attack. that certainly saves some money - even if there's no in-come from all the other things cogs inc does.

cogs inc would probably disband completely, or turn into something else under new leadership because i highly doubt robert would agree with any of this. possibly thomas, since he's getting friendlier with the toons. (but then again, he still does regular cog stuff and doesn't stop anyone - just pointing out he isn't perfect and good himself either.)

but i imagine they could make a profit for having a place for cogs to travel to and relax in and have toontown as a tourist area. i am sure many cogs are curious about the toons and we know how tourists are. despite this being very controversial especially in relation how real life tourist attraction hot spots are (high living costs for natives living there, driving them away from their own homes), i can see this totally happening for toontown. not only that but the cogs and toons could even work together! but yeah it's to drive the point that the cogs are still cogs, they wanna make a profit. even if they're nice with the toons now

especially if they have a bigger threat now which could drive them to work together - because if everything's at peace there's just little to no story to tell.

i can see the cogs helping toons produce more gags to fight with - and perhaps helping with whatever goofy tech they may be building.

i feel like the toons and cogs would be on good terms but have conflict in a silly way - with the temperament of a lot of cogs they're still very serious and just want to get their work done - and not deal with a toon being silly and loud and annoying. still some looney tunes conflict, but in a more light-hearted, well meaning way. like, the war's over.

many toons would take time to adjust, and many would disagree with this. i can see this kind of like HTTYD, when the vikings first began befriending the dragons and inviting them into berk. they had to think of adjustments and how to live together to suit both sides.

on the other hand some cogs wouldn't be fans of this either - but in their case they can just quit, honestly. go somewhere else, find a different job. but that's okay because they're not being like sent to fight the toons now or anything. the cogs that are neutral or even happy about this would stay though.

like it'd take a looong time to adjust yknow? ive mostly been rambling about how they're FIRST getting used to each other without even knowing HOW and WHY it occurred in the first place. it'd need them to put their differences aside and see something they both want to fight for, or some other thing they share. issue is cogs and toons have MANY differences - they are supposed to be polar opposites in general if we don't think about individuals.

but again toontown is a cartoon and i think some big friendship unity COULD happen even if its less realistic. but yeah the first changes that cogs inc would have to be is to stop polluting shit and find different ways to make the company work. i'd say just turning the company place into a living area works since i already headcanon that cogs inc offers that, its basically its own smaller country for cogs outside of suitopia.

in the faaaaaaaaaaar future, things could be far different. it's just second nature that cogs and toons have peace now. perhaps the cogs learn to live simpler, more fun-filled lives. perhaps what the toons could do for the cogs is just go Fuck Capitalism and there's some reforming for suitopia? who knows! hard to imagine for the cogs who are all based on this. a hard question to answer 'coz it's like asking how to fix OUR real life society, LMFAO.

the cogs can learn that, despite them being robots made for work - there's more to life than that, they don't need to live according to their past like that. we don't even know where the cogs come from, but obviously someone had to have built them (even if i imagine cogs as part cartoon magic since they ARE alive they aren't 'JUST' robots)

the toons (of toontown) at least don't have to live in fear of the cogs invading anymore and they're possibly doing well from the new attention from the cogs AND other toons around the world. the toons can relax now, too, and focus on whatever fun hijinks they wanna get up to instead of strategizing and fighting off mean cogs. instead they can just, yknow, be chillin with them!

my brain's a bit scrambled now, i promise i had better comprehensive thoughts last night when i first read this ask so i'm sorta just blurting things out. hope y'all get what i mean!

i don't think it'd be impossible, with how many toons wanna be friends with the cogs (or lovers) (hell even family) with the cogs. but it'd be a hard feat to achieve considering how cogs are. But since many cogs just follow orders it'd need to be a change in how things are lead. (but some cogs would be more easier convinced, we already have some toon friendly/neutral cogs after all)

if i just think about this more and flesh out some of my tooniverse suitopia headcanons more, i think i'd have more comprehensive less repetetive and all over the place thoughts. but still, this is a fun thing to think about, and i'm sure it's something a lot of us cog fans would like to see in-game even just a little bit though it goes agains the whole point of the game. (but it's still in there! just within the realms of how the game works i suppose. looking at misty especially, she's the one who actively wants to befriend toons. then there's neutral cogs like cathal who doesn't even wanna fight. or chip. can't say much i haven't finished his fight yet. or hell, even high roller - they're neutral to cogs and toons - bringing them together on the show. then there's dave dave is something else okay)

but YEAH These are some long ass closing thoughts so lemme end this here since it's LONG. i just wanna explain myself my adhd is showing. TOODLES! i love your guys' asks, please do keep them coming!!

[isladeroda]

Chapter 1 - Heartbeat of Steam

It was one thing to hear the location described in the debriefing. An underground base of sorts, forged entirely out of brass and running on steam. True to what the group had been told, exposed cogs and pumps were visible the moment the beheld the entrance to the lair of their enemy. The hiss of steam could be heard from deeper within, and already, the amount of noise filling the air made it clear that communicating within the structure was going to be difficult. Luckily, that had been discussed ahead of time, and hand gestures had been practiced for many different situations.

Doctor Clara stepped tentatively towards the entrance, her hand-picked team of Operators at her sides and front. Operators Cuora, Alcatraz, Heat, Scavenger, Shirayuki, Projekt Red, and Perfumer had been selected to take part, but another guest had been selected - Rhodes Island’s own Head Engineer, Closure. Her presence was deemed necessary in case the group ran into any unfamiliar machinery, and the Head Engineering Officer was deemed the best fit - no doubt in part to her eagerly volunteering for a chance to check out the unusual engineering in play.

“Wow, despite how archaic the technology seems, this is actually pretty advanced...” As the group got closer, the Sarkaz took every opportunity she could to examine the machinery, nodding to herself a few times. “Already I can tell there’s a number of redundant systems, not out of laziness, but to pick up the slack if any one part fails... And how they manage to get them all to work together when the primary function is unnecessary is astounding... Hmmm...”

The group stopped at the entrance, not just to let Closure look a little closer at the machinery, but to gauge things immediately. If the enemy group had learned they were coming, they’d either ready an ambush, or try to bait them deeper in... And the Doctor knew the latter was unlikely, so after a few moments, the team proceeded to push in further.

“Agh, I can barely hear myself think...” Cuora complained from her place near the back of the single-file formation, her voice nearly drowned out by all of the noise. Similarly, Projekt Red was clearly uncomfortable, only in part from the noise, but as the temperature had clearly rocketed up at least another 10 degrees, Red had already regretted bringing her heavy coat. Shirayuki, befitting her usual modus operandi, had disappeared above them, presumably traveling by means of the pipes that hung overhead. Everyone else, thankfully, seemed more comfortable in the heat, yet the knowledge that they wouldn’t be able to communicate traditionally hung over the group.

The hallways themselves were thin, but rather than typical, solid metal, they were clearly more along the lines of maintenance catwalks, the heavy steel mesh that served as their footholds and the railings that kept them from falling off the side were all hung over more exposed machinery, likely for the sake of ease of access in case any of the seemingly-delicate machinery failed. Now and again, a square of walkway that split into multiple other hallways would “circle” around an important-looking piece of equipment that Closure would pause briefly to examine before the group could continue their exploration.

And yet, Doctor Clara was totally on edge. The lights were literally still on, but nobody was home. They hadn’t seen a single foe since they began to probe deep into the facility and explore, no signs of security... Nothing to stop would-be intruders. Occasionally they came across a locked door with no way to open it from their side, and had to turn back, but that was the only real security measure, and one easily subverted, as there had to be a way to open the doors - a control panel or the like.

Eventually, the team exhausted all of their options, and began traveling down one final path, before eventually coming to a room with a series of conveyor belts that crossed overhead and underneath, carrying metal scrap and unusual-looking parts. Was this a manufactory of sorts? And who was using it? Perhaps this was the group supplying weapons to Reunion... However, unable to make anything other than an educated guess, the group soldiered on, eventually coming to another locked door...

All seemed hopeless before Shirayuki appeared before them and, using hand motions, submitted the idea of using the conveyor belts to travel. The openings were large enough for a person to fit through, though they’d likely want to avoid the ones with scrap on them - those were likely being melted down, and the group would definitely not want a death by melting in molten metal. The group nodded unanimously, before they found a conveyor belt matching their prerequisites, and leaped down onto it.

Curiously, the sound of machinery began to quiet as they followed the conveyor belt, though it was still ever-present. Soon, it opened up into a larger room where mechanical humanoids were clearly being assembled... By nothing other than automated tools, cranes, and mechanical arms on an assembly line. As the group hopped off onto the floor of the assembly room, Closure in particular excitedly examined the various pieces of equipment while everyone else was on-guard.

"There’s no workers, no guards, not even any repairmen... This is beyond strange.” Heat stated, his eyes narrowed and his hand firmly on the weapon at his side. “Even a place like this can’t run fully automated... Can it?” Alcatraz and Scavenger nodded in agreement, very clearly on-guard while Projekt Red and Cuora kept close to Closure, both making sure to keep her safe while she made her observations, and also a bit curious as to the goings-on, themselves.

“You’re not wrong.” Closure eventually spoke up, turning to the group. “Even automated systems need someone to monitor them, moderate them... Ensure that they’re all working accordingly and fix them when they don’t. And for a system with this many moving parts to it, there would have to be at least some repairmen or engineers we’d have encountered on the way...” The group pondered on this idea for a brief moment, only to be interrupted by Perfumer voicing her thoughts.

“Um... I know this might be a stupid question, but... what if it self-repairs?” The group looked between each other as Closure thought to herself before checking a piece of machinery and looking closer. For a few moments, the others weren’t sure what she was looking for, before she stood up straight again and wore a grim expression on her face.

“You... might be right. Less so fantastical as self-repairs, like... It’s not just magically fitting everything back into place. There’s no Originium in these machines, as far as I can tell to facilitate something as absurd as artificial Arts, but... It’s possible they even have an automated repair system.” Scavenger was the first to ask what that meant. Did they have repair arms in the walls behind the gears or something?

“No, nothing so unnecessary... It’s likely that there’s automated drones that fly - or more likely walk or drive - out the moment an error in the system occurs.” Closure spoke with an air of near-certainty. The more she thought about it out loud, the more and more it all seemed to fit neatly into place. “The redundant systems can keep the facility running at partial capacity, while the drones repair the primary functions... It’s like a backup generator for any given piece of machinery. Frankly, it’s genius. There’s just one small problem...”

“...Someone still needs to moderate all of it. Even just check up on it once in a while.” The Doctor spoke up, looking over to their engineer. Closure nodded in agreement, her arms crossed over her midsection in thought, a grim expression on her face.

“So we’re likely to meet whoever we’re looking for deeper in the facility.” Doctor Clara said, speaking to the rest of the group. “But we still need to locate a control panel or something similar from which we can begin to operate the doors in conduct a full search. So for now, that will be our goal. Understood?” The group verbalized their understanding before beginning to move out once more, quickly locating an operable door and walking through.

On the other side was another, brief hallway, that soon lead to a set of stairs going up. Following the staircase, and one more door later, soon the group was treated to a large room with numerous bits and pieces of machinery on the walls, operating at a much quieter volume than the other areas of the facility. It almost felt like a break room for the team, if not for the fact that a terminal and a set of monitors was located on the opposite side of the room that the group quickly rushed over to.

“Well, that was easy! Thank you, sensible lair design~” Closure had already begun to work with the keys and buttons, quickly figuring out their purposes as she went through the data on the terminal. Soon, she realized she was into more important files, including one labeled “Doctor’s Reports”. Had she perhaps just discovered the jackpot? The personal files of someone part of the R&D team responsible for this place, perhaps? “There isn’t even any internal security, which is - ”

The Sarkaz had clearly spoken too soon, as the machinery on the walls suddenly came to life violently as an alarm began to blare throughout the room. The floor opened up near the walls, almost immediately followed by Terran-sized containers rising up through the holes. With gushes of steam that briefly filled the room and soon dissipated through the vents throughout it, the containers opened up to reveal a number of mechanical humanoids wielding various weaponry, from bows and swords to axes and spears.

Immediately the group drew out their weapons and prepared to engage the enemy on the Doctor’s orders. Looking back to Closure, who met her gaze and nodded, Doctor Clara began to issue orders to her group, holding off the advancing robots while Closure began to work through the system and turn off the security systems.

The waves of robots seemed almost endless, but after a minute or two of fighting, the alarm finally died down and the containers that dived down and rose back up with new soldiers finally retreated for good. With the final robot defeated, the Operators all breathed a sigh of relief.

“Sorry about that~!” Closure looked back with a wink and an apologetic grin. “Must’ve tripped something, because I think I’ve got some really good stuff here... Sadly, it’s all encrypted, so I’ll have to get it backed to Rhodes to get it analyzed, but from here, I can totally access the rest of the facility! We’ve got our ticket in, folks!”

“All right.” Doctor Clara nodded to Closure, who began to upload the files in question, before looking to her team. “We’re gonna regroup to Rhodes Island, everyone. Likely adjust our team formation, now that we know more of what we’re dealing with, but I think you’ll all still take part in further exploration of this facility. Understood?”

Replying in the affirmative, the team prepared to leave as Closure finished up her copying of the files. Even as everyone began to talk about the possibility of what may lie ahead, Doctor Clara’s sinking feeling didn’t fade just yet... What was this place for? It seemed way too complex to just be a weapons construction facility, not to mention the lack of intelligent personnel... And on top of all of that...

...Why did it feel so familiar...?

[spaceiplier]

SPACEIPLIER: Found Item

Dark’s ship came to a sudden halt as a small pod sped past. Interesting. He recognized that pod. He leaned his seat forward and changed his course to follow it. It had been a while since he’d seen one, but he’d recognize the Barrel’s escape pods anywhere.

Letting his own ship fall back, out of range of any of the sensors, he put his ship into autopilot. Dark sat back, folding his arms and watching the pod. It was piloted shakily, as if the person onboard either was inexperienced, or wasn’t sure they should be doing it.

Who could it be? Mark was an excellent pilot, and his crew were all fairly proficient in flying. Perhaps Kathryn? She had never struck him as a particularly good pilot. But why would she be leaving alone? Dark’s curiosity was piqued. He wanted to know who was leaving, and why they were leaving so fast.

After the first few hours, Dark was beginning to grow impatient. He didn’t have time to chase around a trivial interest. Dark flicked on his sensors, edging his ship close enough to get into range.

“Interesting,” he hummed aloud to himself. “No biological heat signature. The android left?”

After going through another few sensors, Dark frowned. Whoever was piloting wasn’t Ethan. His signature code hadn’t been input into the pod. Ethan wouldn’t forget to do that. It was what made the Barrel able to find him if he got lost. Who would get on a pod and travel for hours and hours away from the home ship without turning on tracking?

Part of Dark wanted to get back on track to his intended destination. He had things he needed to do. Plans that had to be set into motion. But his gut argued that whatever was on this pod had to be worth following. Dark didn’t usually like following his gut, but this time, he gave in. It couldn’t hurt just this once; there might even be something in it for him.

Dark set his ship to fall back again, and then into autopilot. He stood, giving the pod one more look. He was no stranger to waiting. Time was nothing to him. Besides, he had several things on his ship he needed to organize. Walking back to his kitchen, Dark opened his freezer and began pulling vials down.

He could wait.

.

.     

Dark was patient, but after three weeks, even he was getting a little irritated. He glared at the small pod in front of him. It had better be getting to its destination soon. The fuel was getting low, and the pod’s autopilot was beginning to give out. He knew how those pods worked. Either the robot onboard was an idiot, or they were desperate.

Dark leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He could take a short nap while he waited. It had been a while since he slept, and he was actually starting to feel the effects. Better than a Velm’s body, at least. Even with Dark’s lack of need to sleep, he was still taking naps at least twice a day with a Velm’s body.

He slowly slipped into sleep, letting the gentle hum of the ship lull him into unconsciousness.

A few hours later, Dark’s ship stopped suddenly, and he was startled out of his rest. He sat up and peered out the front window of his ship. His ship had automatically stopped just out of scanning range of a ship that the pod was now docking in. Dark had only seen it a few times, but the hodge-podge appearance of Jack’s ship wasn’t easy to forget.

Dark sighed. This only gave him more questions, and he wanted answers. He flipped a switch on his dash. His ship shuddered, and then began to move forward slowly, now cloaked. Nobody would be able to see him, but if they were looking they could find him on their scanners. Not that anyone would expect him to be here.

Dark let his ship fall into a stationary position, then began to pull on spacewear. It would be easier to sneak aboard as a smaller target. Making sure his oxygen was adjusted for the body he currently wore, Dark stepped out into space.

He landed silently behind a few crates stacked in the docking bay and watched quietly as the pilot of the pod stepped out. They looked like Mark, except for the glasses, red and blue panels, and clothes. Joints were exposed, letting Dark know that it was a robot. Dark’s lips curled back in a sneer. This poor robot had been forced to take the face of that man? How sad.

He watched the robot greet Jack rather emotionally. The robot stumbled forwards, then launched himself into the arms of his creator. Dark huffed. Another one of Jack’s failed creations. For a moment the two just held each other, but then Jack pulled back. He guided the robot farther into the ship.

Dark waited a few minutes before following. He took advantage of the messiness of the ship’s hallways, ducking behind boxes and piles of junk every time someone passed by or turned in his direction. He slipped into the room Jack led the robot into and hid inside a mostly empty crate in the corner. He watched through a hole in the side of the crate as Jack opened up a panel. There was hesitation on the Velm’s face. He whispered something, far too quietly for Dark to hear.

Dark’s eyes widened as he watched the robot slam its elbow into Jack’s face, shoving the Velm into a table and scattering tools and scraps. The robot froze, staring at Jack, and then down at his own hands. It seemed to be showing… regret? No, it was a robot. It was just a simulation of emotions. A crack in its programming.

“Oh fuck,” Jack muttered after a moment of tense silence. Dark squinted curiously as he watched Jack close his eyes and circuit-like patterns began crossing his face. Dark raised an eyebrow as Jack sat up and wiped the blood off his face, cyborg eye now bright crimson.

“͟H̸èy, Goo̴g͝s,̨” Jack sneered in a voice Dark didn’t recognize. “̸Í ͘sęe̛ yo͟u’̡re d͜efecti̡v̢e ̸as̢ ̸e̢ver̶.”

Dark watched with interest as whatever had possessed Jack ripped Google to shreds. Hands that had formerly hesitated now snapped and tore with relish. Dark could have laughed as the monster before him destroyed with apparent pleasure. So different from the Jack he had seen interact with the Barrel’s crew. He watched Jack take a step back as his eye returned to green. Jack’s hands shook as he stumbled, and then he threw up.

An AI? In his head, no less. Jack really was an idiot.

Another robot rushed into the room. It was the bouncy one. The robot gathered Jack into his arms, pulling him away from the trashed remains of the other robot. The two left the room, Jack shakily explaining what had happened. As soon as they were gone, Dark emerged from his hiding place.

He crouched next to the robot. So perfectly destroyed. The AI knew how to kill, and how to kill efficiently. Picking through the robot’s ruined pieces, Dark reached the inner core. He pulled a comm from his pocket and hooked it up to the machine. Code flowed into computer, informing Dark of exactly what this thing’s purpose was.

“Oh,” Dark muttered, a smile growing across his face. “How perfect.”

This robot could learn.

This tool could be used to discover what he was looking for.

This was an opportunity that Dark couldn’t afford to pass up. Not when it was placed this perfectly in his lap.

He tucked the comm back into his pocket. He could wait a while longer. Just long enough for that stupid lizard to fix what he had broken. Then — with this beautiful tool — Dark’s goals would be closer than ever. He finally had another cog in the machine that was moving every so smoothly in his favor.

Dark slunk back into the shadows to find a hiding spot. He could wait. He was patient.

.

.

“Hey, dude?” Dark shifted in the crate. It was sickening listening to Jack mutter to himself constantly about how sorry he was. So emotionally broken. How this miserable creature managed to accomplish anything was beyond Dark. He wished Jack would stop being sorry and just fix the robot already.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“JJ made dinner…” Dark zoned out of listening to the conversation. Another pointless break. Chase — Jack’s companion robot — seemed to show up at the most annoying intervals. Just when Jack would start making progress, Chase would appear to urge him away from work. After several hard days of working, however, “Google” was finally nearly completion.

He watched with eagerness as Jack finally left the room. Dark pulled himself out of the crate and approached the robot. Dark looked the machine over quickly. He could fix the robot the rest of the way on his own ship. There was no sense in waiting for Jack to finish repairs.

Besides, if Dark could show this robot how he had saved him, it would be easier to control.

Dark scooped Google easily into his arms and carried it carefully to the docking bay. He almost took the pod from the Barrel, but then realized it would make more sense that if Google was escaping by itself, he’d take one of Jack’s escape pods, especially since they were completely fueled.

Dark settled Google carefully into the back of the pod, and then jettisoned. He flinched as alarms began going off, and pushed the pod to go faster towards his own ship. Taking Google into his arms again, Dark jumped off the pod, letting it fly quickly towards its programmed destination: an abandoned planet too far away for the pod to arrive at on its limited fuel.

Dark watched it soar away for a moment, before turning to enter his own ship. Once inside, Dark placed Google in the kitchen before running to the controls and flying away. Jack would never be the wiser, and he would naturally assume Google had run away. The robot had run away once before, why wouldn’t it do it a second time?

A coward, just like its creator.

.

.

There was a click in the back of his head. For a moment, everything was dark. Then his systems began to boot up. His vision cleared, and Google blinked. He was staring at a white ceiling. His sensors reaching out, Google turned his head to see he was in a kitchen. Clean and orderly. This wasn’t Jack’s ship, or the Barrel.

“Wh-where am I?” Google asked, not expecting an answer from the empty room. He pushed himself up off the table he was on. Last he remembered, he was being torn apart by ANTI.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Google turned to see Mark — no, not Mark, just someone who looked like Mark — walk into the room. He stood over him, smiling kindly down at him. His hair was longer than Mark’s, and red and blue lines ran down his face. He extended his hand as a gesture of help. Google hesitated for a moment, before he took the man’s hand and let him pull Google to his feet with surprising force.

“Who are you?” Google asked. He hated being the one to ask questions. He was an intelligence robot. He was supposed to have the answers. Still, he wasn’t going to get anywhere here without asking at least a few questions. “Where am I?”

“Mark called me ‘Dark,’” the man explained, his composed smile faltering as he said Mark’s name, “and you may do the same. You’re on my ship.”

Google stepped back. He was with Mark. This man knew Mark. He hesitated before asking his next question. “Where’s Jack?”

Dark chuckled and shook his head. “He tossed you out. Once that AI of his tore you apart, all he could see was trash. A useless broken machine.” Dark clicked his tongue sadly. “I found you floating through space. All alone.”

Google’s hands shook, and it felt like whatever semblance of a heart he had was going to break in two. Jack threw him away? But… but Jack wouldn’t… he said… Jack would never do that…

Dark placed a hand on Google’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now,” Dark said gently. “I fixed you. Unlike Jack and Mark, I know your potential. I know that you were made for great things. You are useful. A brilliant machine whose knowledge is to be implemented, not tossed aside.”

Google frowned and shuffled his feet. “So… you’re not with Mark?”

“With Mark?” Dark scoffed. “Goodness, no. Much like you, my friend, Mark threw me aside. The moment I proved to be more than he could handle, he decided that I wasn’t worth his time. I barely escaped with my life.” Dark paused to show Google a scar from a blaster wound. “We are broken, yes, but this place was made for broken things. You are welcome here.”

Google nodded slowly. What this man was saying made sense. Mark threw things away that he didn’t want. He didn’t care about them. He only cared about what benefited him. Dark was just like Google. He understood. He wanted Google to serve his objectives.

“Thank you,” Google said finally, meeting Dark’s eyes. “I owe you my life.”

Dark grinned and pulled Google into his arms.

“I know.”

[but-the-library-of-alexandria]

30 Day Flash Fiction Challenge - Day 21

Day 21 bitches! Lucky for me (or so I thought) I already had a really solid idea for this prompt on my ideas document - however, having such a developed vision and then trying to fit it into just as much as I could write in one evening was quite an ask, so obviously it seems a little rushed and messy.

Original idea came from this song

Day 21: steampunk sleeping beauty

She wasn’t real, the girl from the toymaker’s shop. That was why nobody went to her funeral. How could she be dead, when she was never alive? It was all nonsense. Good riddance to bad rubbish. Disturbing, it was. Thank god it's gone.

Thomas was the only one who disagreed. He didn't think Evangeline was disturbing. He didn't think she was a machine, either.

He knew her, see. Knew her like you can only know a person. Knew her personality. How can a machine have a personality? It can't. A person could. Evangeline could.

“Who is the little girl down by the river?” He'd asked his mother one day. Thomas's mother had looked, and her face had turned stony.

“That's not a little girl, Thomas,” she said. “Come away from the fence.”

When his mother went back inside, Thomas went down to the riverside to meet the little girl. She was standing very still and watching a butterfly on a bush. The butterfly flew away, but the girl’s eyes remained focussed on the spot where it had sat for several long seconds before reacting and looking around to see where it had gone. As she turned, she saw Thomas.

Thomas saw her face. Her skin was not skin - it was finely painted, the colour of skin onto metal or ceramic. Her golden irises looked like camera lenses, moving as they focused. Her hair was the only thing that looked real - long, blonde and tousled.

“Hello,” Thomas greeted her.

“Hello,” she replied. Her voice sounded normal.

“My name is Thomas,” Thomas said. “What's your name?”

“My name is Evangeline.” Her voice was still normal, but in longer sentences, her words seemed almost rehearsed.

“What are you doing?” He asked her.

“I was watching the butterflies.”

Thomas looked at the bush. “There are lots of bees here too. Be careful.”

He'd hardly even finished talking before a wasp landed on her dress, thinking the flowers on it were real. It crawled under her sleeve, got stuck, and in a panic, stung her shoulder.

“Look out!” Thomas cried, leaping forward and swatting it away. “Are you alright? You got stung! Is it gone?” He swatted it some more, and finally it flew away.

“I got stung?” Evangeline looked at her shoulder. Then, all of a sudden, she burst into tears. Just like that, from blank-faced to tears.

“No, don't cry,” Thomas said, reaching for her shoulder to look at the sting. It hadn't left any kind of a mark.

Evangeline stopped crying on the spot. Her face turned on a dime from tearful to blank. Thomas realised there were no liquid tears.

“Are you alright? Does it hurt?”

“I don't feel hurt. I suppose, there's no reason to cry, then.”

“No. That's okay then.” He looked again at her metal skin. “Do you ever feel hurt?”

“My skin doesn't hurt when it gets damaged,” Evangeline said. “But I hurt inside when I'm sad. Then I cry.”

“My mum says you aren't a little girl.”

“I am.”

“She doesn't think so. The people in the village say you don't count because you're made of metal and cogs and powered by steam instead of food.”

Evangeline’s face crumpled up sadly. “That makes me sad. I am a little girl.”

“I told her you were.”

Evangeline laughed. It was a rather harsh laugh, but pretty.

“What's funny?”

“I thought that was funny. My papa says my sense of humour is a bit off.”

“Who's your papa?”

“The toymaker. He made me, but I am not a toy.”

“I believe you. Do you want to play?”

“Play? Play what?”

“Anything you want. Do you like to play tag?”

“I've never played with other children before. They're scared of me, and their papas take them away from me. That makes me sad. Sometimes it makes me laugh, though. Will you show me how to play tag?”

And Thomas did.

After that, Thomas saw Evangeline all the time. They would play tag by the river, or cat’s cradle under the apple trees, or catch frogs in the park. He enjoyed teaching her things that he'd thought everyone knew, like what a robin was or where the road over the bridge went to. She wasn't very good at imagining games, but she liked football, and once or twice Thomas even got the boys in the park to let her play a proper game. They ended up making her cry by teasing her about being a robot.

He did notice that she wasn't quite like other children he'd met at school. She had human feelings, despite what the townspeople said, but not quite human, as if whoever tried to make her human didn’t quite tune her right; she would hum to herself and stares at the river going by all alone for strangely long amounts of time. She spoke slightly wrong - said things in overly roundabout or riddling ways, or in very direct ways that sometimes sounded rude. She sometimes got bursts of emotion or anger, and then sometimes went days without showing any emotion at all.

Then one day, Thomas was waiting by the window for her to come and play for an hour longer than he'd expected. He knew it wasn't easy for her to walk in the rain sometimes, but she never forgot anything, and if she was not able to come, she would call on the telephone.

After an hour and a half, Thomas was getting worried. He put on his coat and wellies and ran to her house through the rain.

He knocked on the door. The toymaker answered. He was tearful.

And so it was, the next day, that Thomas and the toymaker were stood over an open casket in the garden by the churchyard. The Sunday congregation didn’t want the girl in there with them. The roses were blooming all over the garden. The toymaker had repainted Evangeline so she looked particularly beautiful and colourful, red lipped and rosy-cheeked. He’d tried everything to get her working again, but he got to a point where, if he dug any deeper among her inner workings, he’d never be able to put her back together properly again. Maybe he could get her working again, but he would be almost starting again. She would be a little girl again, but a new one. Not Evangeline. It would have been an insult to put someone else in her body, after she was gone.

After the toymaker and the kindly youth pastor who had agreed to officiate had said a few words, Thomas stood for a long time, just looking at her. The toymaker watched fondly, tears in his eyes.

“I want to thank you, Thomas,” he said. “You treated her like a person, you made her happy, and I’ll never forget what you did for her.”

Over his shoulder, Thomas saw the congregation coming out of the church. They looked over at the mourning pair and, to Thomas’s surprise, they fell silent. They looked guilty. They even looked sad. Some people stayed, to watch the casket be closed and lowered. He realised that they may not have thought Evangeline was real, but they could see that Thomas’s love for his friend was as real as any. And perhaps, they felt just a little bad for their cruelty. For how could anything that was loved by a sweet little boy like Thomas be disturbing?

As the funeral party slowly, slightly expanded, it became evident. It didn’t matter what she was, whether she was alive or human or metal or a toy. All that really mattered was the love in her heart, and the love that she inspired in others.

“Thomas,” said the pastor gently. “It’s time to go.”

Thomas nodded. He took one last look at Evangeline, and all of a sudden the thought that he would never see that face again once the casket closed overwhelmed him. He threw his arms around her still metal body, gathering her to his chest and burying his face in her shoulder.

There was a tiny, almost imperceptible, click.

As Thomas lifted his head from the fabric of her puffed sleeves, he saw her mechanical eyelids, with their tiny glass eyelashes, slowly open up to reveal her golden irises once more.

And she smiled.