what am i doing with my life why am i driving how do i steer this th-

[victorianvertebrae]

Logically it makes sense that you'd eventually want to give a try at my voice, dear mun.

I admit that taking that initial dive into the sparking, artificial consciousness that is an automaton's intellect might seem a bit overwhelming - a sensory overload, if you will - but I assure you that the cogs and gears of my mind run far more rationally than those of Rabbit's or The Jon's. Even Hatchworth's at times, but he at least has an excuse for it.

[A tip of his hat, the slightest of amused upturns at the corner of his mouth. A subdued smirk.]

Just steer me far from trouble (or annoyances) and this will turn out to be a swell partnership.

Comments

[mustardole]

THE SPINE

LOL

WUT

[victorianvertebrae]

...QWERTY.

What a surprise.

[mustardole]

IS IT A SURPRISE

[Don't mind as the screen loweres down to eye level, moving in cloooooooser.]

TEH SPINE

DO U HAVE THE TIME?

[victorianvertebrae]

[Why him.

Despite the assured, too confident reply, there's a touch of lifting hesitation at the end of the automaton's reply. With reason, obviously. This was QWERTY after all.]

8:15 P.M. precisely. [A dimming of those piercing green optics.] Why?

[mustardole]

[The screen tilts, drawing back upwards to whatever the heck is holding it up in this strange place that is dear_mun.

It isn't long before-

No, no. It's just a harmless, way oversized sombrero being deposited ontop of Spine's hat.]

FIESTA TIME

HAVE U SEEN THE OTHERS YET TEH SPINE?

[victorianvertebrae]

[Look at this unamused face, QWERTY. Look at it.

Still, heaving a heavy sigh of steam, that rigid posture unchanging even when the sombrero was plopped atop his head, The Spine's stoic tone continued on. By this point in time he knew better than to address the screen's...quirks. Doing so usually only encouraged it.]

No, QWERTY. I'm afraid I haven't seen or been in contact with any of the others yet. [Sigh, dare he even ask?] Have you?

[mustardole]

YES

[Lowering back down with a bob.]

RABBIT

TEH SPINE

RABBIT

THE JON

THE JON

HATCHWORTH

[Wait, wait. QWERTY moved in close again, screen just a few scant inches away from The Spine.]

SINCE WHEN WAS THERE 2 OF ROBUTS

[lovesbobbydarin]

[SPINE YOU ARE USING TOO MANY BIG WORDS so The Jon is just gonna tune out everything you said except for that last sentence, ok? Ok!]

Steer you? Are you on one of those pretend spaceships?

[victorianvertebrae]

[Sigh. Certainly not an unexpected reaction. At least The Jon's antics were slightly more tolerable than QWERTY's.]

No, I'm afraid not, The Jon. That's usually Rabbit's undertaking. [Have a little pat on the shoulder, little brother.] It's nothing you need to worry yourself with.

[lovesbobbydarin]

Why would I be worried? Spaceships are cool. Even if you aren't in 'em.

[victorianvertebrae]

[Oh Jon. Never change.] As much as I prefer to keep my feet solidly on the ground... I have to agree.

[As long as they were real and not flying through the middle of a song during a performance.]

[lovesbobbydarin]

Hah! I knew you'd come around, eventually! You can't go wrong with lasers and space pizza.

[Aww man, c'mon Spine, imaginary spaceships are the best kind!]

[victorianvertebrae]

[Perhaps, but not on stage. Keep that to cardboard box adventures around the Manor.]

Space pizza... And how exactly does space pizza differ from regular pizza, The Jon?

[hatchy]

My mind runs. ration.ally enough. The Spine.

[Just put aside his threats of arson and all of that.]

[victorianvertebrae]

[A curve of those titanium faceplates into a half-smirk, a gentle tease at his youngest brother.] Rationally enough, Hatchy.

[That sense of humor had to peek out every now and then.]

[hatchy]

That is. all I need.

[There's that smile under a glorious orange 'stache, Spine.]

Do you know. if your mun.dane will treat you nice.ly yet?

[victorianvertebrae]

With her record? Not likely.

Not that I'd be at all surprised by this point. [It wasn't like the 'bot's had spent the last one hundred and seventeen years frolicking through a flower garden. Trouble practically went hand-in-hand when dealing with the Walters.]

[hatchy]

Per.haps nicer than. mine.

[Even after over seventy years in a vault, there is no such thing as just not throwing a 'bot in horrible situations. No one is safe.]

[victorianvertebrae]

[Our muns think too closely alike.]

I'll believe it when I see it. [A huff of steam at that. Muns.] Have you been put through the wringer as of late?

[bluematters]

[MUNS DO NOT LISTEN TO ANYONE, THE SPINE.

Well, not the muses at the very least. If they did this would not be happening.]

Most of them tend to enjoy steering into trouble.

[victorianvertebrae]

[The Spine did not possess human feelings. It was all merely a set of certain responses (a change of tone, a curve or twist to faceplaces, a dimming of optics, a difference in stance) that were available for the automaton to carry out when placed in varying situations and under differing conditions.

Strain, stress, annoyance, full blown exasperation - these were the feelings that The Spine was most familiar with, the effects of everyday life with his oftentimes vexing brothers. There was occasionally a twinge of elation after a particularly successful performance, a quickening of his gears at the thought of a special woman in his life, but it was all expected. Programmed. Regular. Routine.

Despite the chaos that was the life of a Walter, The Spine's reactions to each and every situation were always planned out in advance. This was the way he would react to Rabbit setting the Manor on fire for a third time that week. That was the reaction his 'mind' would leap to when The Jon's void had opened up and dragged out yet another marshmallow demon from KazooLand.

...But this. The Spine was momentarily at a loss. A twitch of those silver fingers, a tremor at his stiff jaw. What was this? What was this emotion? It was not planned or purposely picked out. This was raw feeling and it was terrifying.

But that was most certainly Peter Walter the First standing before him, no matter how young he looked, and this was one of those few situations The Spine could not prepare himself for. It was a real, natural reaction.

As much as he denied himself the ability to feel, this moment was paramount in showing just how human truly was in that respect.

Silver hands clasped into fists, a shudder at those strong shoulders.]

C-Colonel Water. Sir.

[bluematters]

[There was a hand settled against The Spine's arm, that shudder not missed at all; nor the hands turningg into fists.

As changed as the silver automaton was, deep down he was still the 'bot he had built. The changes on the outside still showing hints of what once was, in a way.]

At ease. [Softly. His hand was solid enough, that touch didn't fall through.

He was deffinately there.]

[victorianvertebrae]

[Not a simple hallucination. Not an otherworldly entity. Not a ghost. What was this?

If this place wasn't already as illogical as it so obviously appeared to be, The Spine would have most certainly believed himself to be under the influence of some glitch within that fine-tuned processor of his, some accidentally frayed wiring, a gear or two caught off of rotation. Perhaps even, a true shudder at the thought, a leak in his power, reality-bending core.

But this Peter placed a hand upon him - a solid hand, a familiar weight - and from that steady breathing he did seem to be alive. As improbable as it was, Peter Walter was alive before him and ordering the automaton to relax from that stiff position. To ease up from that proper title.

The Spine's head tilted, far down enough that the brim of his hat shadowed his quivering expression even from the shorter man, only the sight of one line of oil slicking across his cheek being seen before his face disappeared from view.

An unnatural tremble in his tone.] Pap-ppy...

[What could he possibly do? How else could he react?]

[bluematters]

Hello, The Spine.

[He caught that trailing oil, taking a step closer as needed while drawing a cloth from one of his lab coat pockets. Reaching, it was used to wipe that stray bit of black away from silver.

His boy was a tall one.]

I'm real, don't worry about something being wrong with your system.

[Yeap.]

[victorianvertebrae]

[The Spine allowed that contact, to have that single tear wiped away, all evidence of his emotional struggle and that brief fluttering moment of vulnerability wiped away and erased from existence. There.

At once he was himself again, rigid and firm. The straight man. The reliable one. Shaken up, yes, but it had been shoved down deep inside to be examined at a later date. In private.]

Colonel Walter. [The tremor in his tone was gone, green optics lifting to meet his creator's gaze.] I am... pleased to see you again. It's been too long.