malfunctionbot | (no subject)

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fabula(e) victoriana

(no subject)

The Steam District was no place for homeless robots.

Since the accidental destruction of their temporary housing within the strange, oftentimes dangerous city, The Walters (plus one mechanic, one woman chemist, and one floating ghost-like girlfriend), had been wandering the streets using whatever shelter they could find while they pooled their limited resources and even more limited money, the 'bots in particular going in overdrive and overexertion in their sudden need to draw in an income towards a new home.

Because even if the cold weather and lack of a roof didn't quite effect the robots too terribly no matter how unpleasant it was, it was a completely different affair for the humans in their party, who were hungry and cold, all three of which were completely unused to snow at all.

It was that exhaustion that no doubt had brought the automatons into the situation they were now.

Somehow, in their fatigue, the 'bots had wandered too closely to the district they'd been doing their best to avoid, and before they had even had much chance to react, the world had gone black around them, their mechanical, sparking consciousness fading into nothingness as they were forced into a temporary stasis.

It wasn't until they'd already been restrained, their restricted weaponry made ineffective, that optics were flickering back to life, a certain drowsy, incoherence lingering from that violent attack and involuntary shutdown.

When Rabbit sputtered back online, blue and green optics flashing between brightness briefly as he adjusted and dragged himself back to alertness, it certainly didn't take very long to realize he'd been strapped down. And well, which was all the more surprising given his strength to usually break through most bonds. Whoever had done this knew what they were doing-

Oh shit.

[Locked to

eyestothesky,

hatchy,

poweredbypepsi, and

lovesbobbydarrin.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It wasn't unheard of for The Jon to unexpectedly drop into stasis - usually it was because he'd been busy tearing around the mansion, too hyperactive and giddy to remember that he needed rest, until his systems threw their figurative hands in the air and he'd faceplant straight into a laundry hamper.

Usually he knew where he was when he woke up, though.

The sparse observational room that they were trapped in gradually slid into focus as The Jon's optics flickered open, and the koi inside him began swimming in frantic, tight circles. He blinked muzzily and sat up, rubbing his face with one hand and mentally poking at the 'bots shared network connection - at least they were all here, wherever 'here' was.

"Wh'appened?" he mumbled. "Spine? Rabbit? Hatchy? Not-evil-The-Jon? What's goin' on...?"

It was the mental poking that helped in prompting Hatchworth back online, going to lifting a hand only to find that he couldn't. Startled, blue optics snapped open with some panic coursing through him; no no no no no no-

He found he couldn't move at all, a low and distressed grinding sort of whine escaping him. Oh, this wasn't right at all and his powering down out of no where was not along the lines of normal for him. "Some.thing is. wrong," quietly, as if not wanting to be heard. All he could find himself to do was stare towards a very unfamiliar ceiling, unwilling to try and turn his head.

The things hanging from said ceiling didn't hint towards anything less distressing around, not at all.

The prodding over their connection, Hatchworth's voice accompanied The Spine's slow rousing, the tall bot letting out a quiet groan. The shifting was brought up short, and discovering that, his optics brightened in alarm. And as he was trying to pull free, their surroundings were far from comforting. The small room was hardly calming, and the room he could see some of his brothers trapped in sent a surge of alarm through him, frame tensing as his gaze skipped from them, to the rather nasty looking tools arranged and ready for use.

This was... this was not good.

The sound of his youngest brother to his left had Rabbit's unfocused attention immediately, another strain against those bonds before he was craning his skinny neck over to the bronze automaton, bi-colored optics brightening in concern and confusion. Though the flutter of panic certainly existed, coiling and curling like a snake trapped within his nearly empty boiler, the copper 'bot wasn't quite so given to turn to instantaneous terror as his younger brothers.

Instead his jaw set, restraints being tested again for a third time, a snappy growl deep in his throat as his voice rose, echoing through both rooms.

"A-A-All r-right! Joke's over! Let-let-let th' powerful robuts go before ya start pissin' us off an' we gotta break through yer shiny restraints all on our own." A huffing puff of steam. "C-cause we will!"

The Jon, on the other hand, was attempting to curl in on himself once those swirling emotions of unhappiness and fear were looping around his brother's metal structures, the situation completely foreign and not at all understood, but those unspoken emotions read loud and clear. Despite it, he tentatively poked each robot in turn over the network, a lingering brush with his double that brought at least a little reassurance, before he frowned, optics dimming.

"..Rabbit, you're not 'sposed to use bad words like that. Especially outside of the house..." But his tone sounded strangely hesitant, even more confused and uncertain than usual.

What was going on what was happening where were they this was bad whatever it was it felt bad...!

The Jon wobbled to his feet and padded over to the window, pressing his face to the glass with a light tink. The actual sight of his bound brothers and those horrible things hanging from the ceiling made him send a sharp spike of panic jolting through the network, and his voice started to rise into a thin, frantic whine.

"Nononononononono..." he shrank away from the window, clutching the brim of his hat. What was going on!?

All of them were here. All of them where here.

Tentatively he pulled against his own restraints, wincing inwardly as he couldn't budge even part of an inch. Boiling feeling as if it was churning with the spike of fear, panic, with a large cloud of steam expelling from him.

He managed to turn his head enough to catch sight of Rabbit to his right, "I--" but whatever he was about to say died off as soon as sounds from elsewhere in the room, or near it, started up-

Testing one of the saws, revving it up before the blade cut through one of the trashed out robuts from earlier. Had to be ready for this nice little project, after all, "Quit your yapping ya damn hunk of junk! You're not foolin' nobody, and we'll get to you when we're damn well ready," Was that voice familiar?

The Spine froze when he heard that voice, spark clenching as he saw the man cutting through the remnants of another unfortunate robot. And really how could he not recognize that voice? it just made the whole thing worse.

This just went from bad to worse.

This was one of those rare situations where the automatons somehow managing to remain together was not quite as welcome a realization to awaken to, not when Rabbit was sorely wishing his younger brothers were far, far out of this suddenly recognizable place. The voice may not have been too familiar to him - the copper 'bot had only seen the tail end of The Spine's experimentation on, after all, most of it was the scientists running out in fear of his own terrifying self - but that mental ping of startling fright from the titanium robot was enough to put two-and-two together.

Just like The Spine had some weeks earlier, all of the Walters had been brought to this place. And a glance around at the dangerous tools, the sawed through pieces of their robotic brethren scattered across the room, seemed more than enough to come to the conclusion as to why.

Rabbit's neck craned and stretched again, searching the room for the other three robots that he could feel were just there within reach but no where in sight. The observational window was, unfortunately, one-way, so even with The Jon pressed up close like that, Hatchy and Rabbit couldn't physically see the trio.

/S-S-Spine!/ Rabbit called out over their the Walter's shared network, not even bothering to filter the message straight to the second oldest brother. /Ya g-g-gotta get Th'Jons outta here. I'll try an' keep their attention focused./

"Hey fathead!" One of those too famous Rabbit smirks, cocky and confident and terrible. "Y-y-yeah, ya spineless, lil' heap o' human waste. Think yer a b-big, strong man, dontcha'? Lockin' up five, h-h-harmless musicians. Well c-c-come over here an' I'll show ya just how harmless w-we really are. I d-dare ya." Just a few feet closer and Rabbit would be sinking his teeth into some fleshy part of him. And it wouldn't at all be pleasant.

The Jon's optics shot wide open and brightened in intensity as Rabbit's words pinged through the network, and he was back at the window again in an instant, pounding on the glass with one fist. He didn't seem to notice that there was almost no give to the surface, if this were a normal window that hadn't been reinforced, his hand probably would have gone right through the glass.

/What?! Nononono! What about you and Hatchy?! You've gotta--!/ he didn't know what they could do, but they had to do something, this couldn't happen, this couldn't be happening and was that a robotic arm on the floor?!

The whine started to escalate into a wordless, frightened wail, the kind that he used whenever a situation was too confusing or upsetting for him to process.

That was a robotic arm on the floor along with the still twitching and sparking body of one, it's jaw still moving and what sounded like a static filled children's lullaby being repeated over and over again.

This place was a nightmare, tools and parts all over, the scent of oil and other fluids heavy in the air. /Is that such a. good idea?] quietly, even over the shared network, almost wishing he could sink into that table he was bound to at the sounds that saw made as it cut through metal. Baiting someone with a saw was never a good idea.

"Harmless my ass," he wasn't soon forgetting being chased out when they got that silver one. That saw was being moved to rest between the two 'bots, along with a few other tools. His job was just to get things set up. For now, "and ya ain't gettin' locked up.

"Told 'em we shoulda ripped out the vocal wirin'," muttering to himself.

/I can't budge. They've got me strapped down tight. The Spine's reply was clipped and tense, a sure sign of his own fear, shoved down at the sight of The Jon so upset. He had to get the brassy bot's attention; maybe between them he could get loose, and then he could get them all out, Rabbit and Hatchworth included.

"The Jon!" He hoped a sharper tone might cut through his little brother's upset state. If not... they were in even more trouble.

Not even the sound of his name had The Jon's attention snapping so immediately to his older (younger) brother, the 'bot still curled up as best as he could be, rocking while brassy, slim fingers were twitching against his own skinny body, shredding that bowtie of his without any effort or understanding. His blue eyes were fixated head of him, staring through the observational window out to where Rabbit and Hatchworth were strapped and vulnerable, but with that distant expression on his face, that dreamy quality that made him look as if he was within a living nightmare currently, it couldn't really be too sure what he had heard or seen in the first place.

Despite his young nature, The Jon has lived a very long existence. One hundred and seventeen years. And while most of those years were filled with warm memories that he held dear to his clockwork heart - his older brothers bickering, performing in the Steam Man Band, unending laughter and cheesy enchiladas - to assume that The Jon hasn't experienced the true horrors of humanity would sadly be false. He lived through and personally experienced four different wars, disappeared completely after Vietnam only to be returned to his family in multiple pieces eight years later, and saw his human brother die horrifically in a freak explosion initiated by Rabbit's power core.

So yes, while the carefree robot preferred to see the world around him in splashes of sky blues, rosy pinks, and daisy yellows, The Jon was regretfully acquainted the dark hues of pain and suffering and unholy fire.

A single peek at the shadowed man in the corner with enough to get The Jon whimpering and curling even further into himself, his blue eyes fixed from behind that window on rogue scientist and the darkness that was ominously swirling around him.

There was a familiar splash within him, fins slicing through nothingness, calling The Jon out of his tumbling, cascading, truly terrifying thoughts, back to himself, back to the reality he didn't want to be in.

Koi snapped the golden boy out of one nightmare and back to another, his head finally turning to The Spine, showing the sadness etched into every seam and curve of his brassy faceplates.

"R-R-Rabbit..."

Rabbit was not exactly having the best day of his long life right about now.

/W-W-Well, get out o' it! What's th' p-point o' bein' a big, upgraded robut if ya c-can't use yer super strength t' break out o' restraints! Keep t-tryin'!/ A too snappy reply, perhaps, and certainly one that wasn't exactly thoughtful or brimming with intelligence and wit, but the copper 'bot was preoccupied in attempting to keep the automaton mutilator's attention upon himself. However The Spine handled the task he'd been given didn't matter to Rabbit, just as long as he fulfilled it and both himself and The Jons got out of his situation alive and fully functioning.

...That just left Hatchworth. The youngest of the Walter 'bots and the newest to be welcomed into their band was in just as bad as position as Rabbit himself currently, which meant an easy out wasn't at all available. Rabbit would have to think. To improvise. To wiggle and mislead and zig-zag their captivator's attention around, just like his namesake, to wait until the perfect opportunity came forth for Hatchworth to run.

Then it would simply be saving himself, which Rabbit honestly wasn't at all concerned for. It was a terrifying situation, sure. The way that buzzsaw sliced through the former shell of a robot was the kind of stuff automaton nightmares were made out of, that was for certain. But hadn't the Steam Man Band been through it all? Hadn't they seen and lived through worse?

Hadn't they survived Vietnam?

No, as long as his younger brothers were able to get free and to safety, Rabbit could handle whatever came his way and make it out of here in one piece.

Unfortunately, after a threat of his caliber, the humans who were behind this little experiment would not get the same treatment. It may have been outside of his initial programming to harm human beings of any sort for any reason, but when the very lives of his family was put into danger like this, not just once but twice even, Rabbit was not the sort of robot to simply let it slide or give another chance.

A robot must protect its own existence. But more importantly, that of his family's.

"C-C'mon, b-b-buddy." A devilish grin on his part as those hips and shoulders wiggled, testing the restraints, one of them had to be less secure than the others. Rabbit would find it and then that man would be down fast.

That grin purposely showed off those gleaming, sharp teeth of the copper 'bot's, the robotic arm on the floor getting a brief nod to. "W-w-won't ya lend me a hand?"

You like puns, chumps? Rabbit was guessing with the level of serious in this room, that would be a no.

The wailing had only intensified, growing louder and more desperate as The Jon backed away from the window and put his arms around his skinny body, beginning to curl in on himself like his twin. This was too big, it was too much, it was like a nightmare it was a nightmare and they weren't waking up why weren't they waking up...

The Spine's authoritave voice didn't quite snap The Jon out of his spiraling thoughts, but it at least gave him something else to focus his attention on. The wailing lessened, then gradually turned into an anxious whimper as he turned to face Spine, fingers tightening and digging into his sleeves.

"S... Spine?" Those optics almost seemed to be glazed over, the intensity of the blue lights flickering as he struggled to keep focused on his older/younger brother in the midst of the dark, storming colours that were swirling around him.

Hatchworth had gone quiet on his end, simply listening to the chatter over their connected network, trembling where he was strapped down at the spikes of panic and everything swirling together. The shifting of tools as well, clinking against a metal table that had been moved between him and Rabbit.

Couldn't move, couldn't move...!

"I ain't yer buddy--" There was the sound of a door slamming, that arm picked up from the floor by a taller passing man, eyeing it and then looking down his nose at Rabbit, then the other human, "Stop talking to it and get to work!" snapped, moving to the table himself as the arm was flung aside and into that sparking bot on the floor.

It slumped, any trace of 'life' knocked out of it.

"Honestly, you are tasked with a job, and instead you're talking to one of the items we're to be working on" picking up one of the smaller saws, turning it on to eye the speed before stepping over towards Hatchworth, fingers moving over the hatch.

He paused to glare at the other, "Well? You've got what we need for the job; get to it!" working on prying open that hatch of the bronze 'bot, drawing that saw near enough the contact sent sparks into the air. Hatchworth's sudden panic filled cry for them not to, for them to stop, ignored.

Oh, but Rabbit was given a look as the first man had that large saw in hand, "Try an' keep being funny now," the copper 'bot was getting all of his attention now, a pity the reason why no longer mattered. Without further warning that saw he had been testing out earlier was forced down and into Rabbit's torso, all in an effort to make a nice place to get a grip for prying back the metal of his chest.

"The Jon, I need your help." At least he'd gotten the attention of one of them. "These restraints are too tough for me on my own. Between you and I we might be able to force them so I can help Rabbit and Hatchworth. Can you do that buddy?"

He was trying to keep calm. To keep in his usual role, the one who would fix whatever had gone wrong, hoping this would help keep the upset bot focused.

But then his optics caught sight of sparks, heard Hatchworth's cries, and he let out a low desperate sound of his own, throwing his weight against the restraints keeping him bound.

The Jon was at his side in an instant, nimble fingers doing what they could to help, and hopefully, between at least their combined strength, something had to give.

Rabbit, on the other hand, was momentarily too preoccupied in his own situation to notice much else besides the blade sawing straight down into his chest, snapping wires and slicing cleanly right through that aged, copper chassis of his. The world went black in a matter of milliseconds, something fragile that connected the 'bot's photoreceptors severing and making those brilliant bi-colored, glowing optics of his dim to black, empty nothingness.

At first there was no pain, merely surprise and outrage at how the second man had appeared from nowhere and how he'd moved straight to Hatchworth despite Rabbit's egging on. This wasn't what he had planned out, this wasn't the magnificent escape that he'd seen in his-

*BZZZZZZTZZZT* CRACKCREAKSNAP

The pain burst through like a barely held together dam, the agony flooding through Rabbit's entire frame, reaching the very tips of his unfeeling toes to that bare copper head of his with the most delicate and important of wiring. Something sizzled as the 'bot twitched and spasmed beneath the saw as it cut straight through him, dark smoke sputtering out of his mouth as a snarling, jerky cry was dragged from that glitching voice box of his. It was overwhelming, too powerful and all encompassing, especially as those alarm bells started screeching through his head, but Rabbit was still Rabbit and that stubbornness of his would follow him straight to the grave.

Perhaps earlier than expected at this rate.

"G-g-g-gGGGGG-gg-g-ggeteetttt OFFA ME-ME-mememe-ME-ERROR. ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.- YA FUcccccckING SON ooo-of-OF-OF-OF-A-" A strange thud and something important shattering within him, a raw second of silence and horror, the implications of just where the saw was headed suddenly towards smacking Rabbit right to the core and stealing the breath from his bellows.

Fuckingfuckfuckfuckfuckfu-

"S-s-s-ss-SSSSSSSSSS-STOP-P!" What in the hell were these idiots doing? DIDN'T THEY HAVE A CLUE WHAT THEY WERE SAWING STRAIGHT INTO? "Ya-ya-ya FUcking MOR-ON-ONS!! Gonna-gonna-gonna-gonna-gonna-gonna-" And another sizzling snap from within and Rabbit's speech cut off all together, leaving the bot hissing out a stream of garbled consonants and static - "CZZZTBRRRRRRRRRRRKZ-" -jaw opening and closing without any rhyme or reason, not matching up to his unintelligible speech, limbs twitching all over in those restraints of his.

The second The Jon followed his twin's lead and set to work on The Spine's other side, prying at the restraints. Between the three of them, hopefully they'd make some progress. Once he heard the shrieking buzzsaw and his brothers' cries, The Jon froze up completely, optics going wide in horror as the awful sounds sunk in, along with the reality of what was happening.

"Stop it!" he screeched. "Stop it stop it stop it sssT-o-0-000o--!!"

A ceramic teapot appeared out of thin air beside The Jon and shattered to the ground, sending fragments of pottery everywhere and soaking the floor with Earl Grey. The scientist in the next room over who had been observing their 'lifelike' reactions to this whole nightmare was going to have some very strange case notes.

Very strange case notes indeed.

"RA^B_BIT!" Hatchworth wailed from amongst the sound of saws on metal, limbs jerking against his own restraints. Steam billowed from any exit it could find, screeching in both panicked fear and what could only be pain. This wasn't good, what were they doing; what was going to happen if none of them could escape this nightmare? He could hear Rabbit directly to his right-

"Dammit," he'd lost the handsaw almost as soon as he'd gotten that hatch off, left to peer in at whatever fluctuating blue had sucked in the tool, "What are these things running on- Give me that, you've cut enough!" Taking the larger saw from the other man who had been smiling far too much at how Rabbit had been twitching and yelling. He remembered the copper scrap-pile from when he and his partner had grabbed the silver one, this had just been too perfect to pass up, "Hey, I was usin-" "Just pry it open already and stop playing around.

"Now we have to listen to it short-circuit, what a piece of shit." Now the larger saw was taken down onto the bronze 'bot with enough force to cut straight through it's torso, aiming to cut around whatever the Hell that was in its chest as not to lose another tool; a new sort of screams coming from Hatchy at that, convulsions held back only by restraints as even they begain the creak from his movements, smoke rising to the air.

The other man grumbled, "Yeah, yeah; whatever ya say ya screechy ponce." Far too satisfied, the man grabbed another set of tools, after pulling on some sort of heavy gloves, working on prying that sliced up copper apart on Rabbit, just to see what damage he'd done, "Ain't gonna be good for nothing more than just scrap when its done with," using what strength he had, along with those tools for leverage, he worked on bending open the copper 'bot's chest cavity none too carefully.

They were all just mobile hunks of metal, "I must admit, their life-mimicry programming is amazing, it's almost a pity."

"Pity my ass! Bastardization of science and life, the lot of 'em."

He was trying.

Trying to keep it together, not to lose his head. The Jons needed that, and really, how would he help anyone if he did?

But seeing what they were doing? Seeing the men carving into his brothers like that, knowing what had Rabbit so suddenly frantic, Hatchworth's shrieks?

He was unaware when he started screaming along with them, frame creaking under the strain as he pulled at the restraints, the metal starting to twitch against limbs, sure signs that they'd be shattering soon. But there was a strut-deep terror that he'd be too late.

"RABBIT! HATCHWORTH! NO!"

Unfortunately for The Spine, and every other human and automaton in the room, it was too late already.

Rabbit must have sensed it too for that crackling, static-filled speech lowered to nearly nothingness. The trio of robots within the observational room wouldn't be able to hear a thing, but Hatchworth, poor Hatchworth, was close enough to see that continual movement of his loosened jaw, the hissing of smoke-mixed steam that signaled a repetition of a single whispered phrase, over and over and over:

"P-P-PA-pappy, help me!"

But then that copper plate was pulled too hard, the vulnerable core within crumpling in upon itself at the suddenly instability and lack of protection, and before anyone could possibly react, there was an ear-splittingly loud explosion, a burst of blue matter combusting into the air. Reality split apart and rewove itself in the blink of an eye, Rabbit's open chest collapsing violently as the last spark of life escaped his body, one final convulsion and twitch and he was still.

In the blast, the observational window was suddenly pelted with oil, transmission fluid, blood, and coiling drips of blue matter itself. There was a final thud when Rabbit's jaw flew across the room and hit the window, splintering the glass into spiderweb-like veins, but that would no doubt be forgotten quickly with the resulting agonized screams from the humans and remaining robot who had just been standing directly in the otherworldly blast's radius.

And The Jon's screaming blended in with the rest of the noise, arcing up into a shrieking, terrified wail that echoed around the small room, and briefly hitting a pitch that only dogs could hear as Rabbit's jaw cracked the glass. He'd dropped to the floor and was gripping his arms as if afraid he'd fly apart, staring into the distance with unfocused optics as oily tears streamed down his face. He couldn't stop shaking, and the screaming had gone past words... Now it as just noise, his glitching voicebox jerking up and down and lacing the sounds with static and whining feedback in a way that sounded eerily similar to one of The Jack's fits.

Two flowerpots appeared in midair and crashed down around the brassold 'bot, showering the floor with more pottery, clods of dirt and - ironically enough - white funeral lilies... not that anyone was likely to notice the flowers in all the confusion.

There had been so much noise, so much screaming and the sound of a running saw on metal--

Silence, Hatchworth couldn't hear anything, optics wide in horror as he could catch Rabbit's repeated phrase before he couldn't see anything either. There was only pain, a surge from that blue matter explosion within his own systems; made better or worse due to his own core there was no time to tell. Smoke was coming from a suddenly slack jaw, head laying as limply as the rest of the bronze 'bots limbs. No twitch of life, optics having brightened before they were just an empty; dark.

The two humans had tried to duck for cover, one slumped beneath the table the bronze automaton was on, bleeding and in pain. Alive, yet likely wishing her weren't from the sounds being made. The other didn't come out any better, across the room from where he was, the saw the other man had been using embedded into the wall just inches away from his head.

"Fuck."

The Spine went absolutely still when The Jon started screaming, the green of his optics narrowing to barest pinpricks as he was trying to process just what had happened on the other side of the glass, what they'd done to Rabbit--

Rabbit.

It took scant seconds at this point for him to surge back into motion, and after previous attempts the restraints tore from his limbs as he freed himself, fury choking him, blinding him to all else but the humans that caused this, even as he was tearing his way out of that room. And without the gore masking the window, seeing not just one unresponsive robot, but two? Hatchworth slumped dark and cold in a manner similar to how Rabbit, poor Rabbit had ended up?

The sight was like a shock of cold water, the rage in him shifting to something sharp and cold as he glanced back towards where The Jons were still, optics dimmed.

"Close your eyes and don't open them until I say." The instruction was definitely in one of The Spine's 'do as you're told' tones, though his voice was eerily devoid of inflection. Confident that the brassy bots would obey, he turned back to the carnage, gaze zeroing in on the human who'd been under the table when he moved as if he was going to try and escape.

Oh no, we couldn't have that now. It was a few steps to catch up, silver hand closing on the back of the man's neck, lifting him partly up. The Spine didn't leave him hanging like that for long, optics dulling slightly as his gaze fell on the limp forms of his brothers before his expression hardened.

There was a sickening splat, the man's body jerking at the impact of face to floor before he was still.

It was at this point that the other man had abandoned his attempts to free the saw from the wall for some manner of defense, and instead decided to try and bolt for the door while the silver bot was distracted.

It almost looked like he might make it by, until quick as a snake one hand shot out, closing in a tight grip around an ankle. The man hit the floor at this with a startled shout, kicking in a panic at the automaton, though his boot heel just bounced uselessly off plating as The Spine stood, dragging his unfortunate captive back into the room proper, kicking and yelling and cursing.

"Oh no... you're not getting away this time." The Spine's voice came out softly, almost a chiding tone. Or it would be if there were any warmth there, instead of the cold bitter fury lurking in the words with a terrifying finality to them. And no matter how deeply the saw blade had bitten into the wall, it took little effort for the bot to pull it free. And while the man in his grip had been frantic to escape before, something in the green gaze that snapped to him as the saw shrieked to life turned it to a more frenzied bid for survival.

And with the saw buzzing in his hand, The Spine crouched down again, shifting to start in on carving the man responsible for Rabbit's demise to pieces.

And scream as he might, The Spine would not be making this quick. He was beyond the concept of mercy here, the spray of blood from the saw splattering against titanium plating as he worked merely driving home the assurance that this threat would never harm his brothers ever again. He'd be an example, a warning scrawled garishly in scarlet for all the world to see.

Edited 2013-02-19 05:55 (UTC)

The Jon wrapped skinny arms around his double, curling into the other, seeking some form of physical comfort while the pair of brassy 'bot's simply sobbed. It was just too much for him, too much to take in, too much to react to.

But Rabbit would be okay, wouldn't he? And Hatchy? And all of them? This wasn't real. None of this was happening. Nonononono please let this be some terrible hallucination, some nightmare. None of this was real-

Whenever The Spine returned to the observational room that the 'bots were curled up, squeezing their optics shut in, he'd find quite the assortment of broken objects that had been popped into existence, a newly created television set appearing in the wrong time period before shattering to the floor, glass shards skittering everywhere.

The second The Jon gave one last choked, staticky noise before his voicebox cut out completely, something internal finally wearing itself out from overuse. He looked confused for a second at the abrupt silence, and then went back to tangling himself around the other Jon and hiding his face in the crook of his twin's shoulder. At one point he tried to call out to The Spine, just to ask if they could open their eyes yet and go home he wanted to go home home h0mE, but all that came out was a buzz of white noise.

Aside from the TV set, the room had gained an entire broken set of china dishes, some golf clubs, a shattered fish tank (without any fish, thankfully) and a battered sombrero that looked as if it had been through a meat grinder.

Edited 2013-02-19 16:12 (UTC)

It had been the explosion that had allowed a certain man to find the place; panic had surged through him, knowing that sort of explosion all too well, and with that came worry and fear. That sort of explosion didn't mean anything good, Blue Matter only existed in this world within five creations, and if there was an explosion--

Doors weren't an option, the far wall of the room exploding outwards instead of inwards, a cloud of dust and small debre rushing forwards despite that. Whatever humans had been left, hidden away in observation rooms to watch the unbound brothers, likely scrambling to exit if they hadn't from The Spine's actions already. Hatchworth still limp upon the table he had been strapped to.

Peter strode into the room to a sight of horror before him, bringing fourth an incomprehensible yell from him, loud enough that it could be heard even over a running saw.

By the time Peter caught up, The Spine was crouched over what had once been a person that thankfully had ceased it's incomprehensible gurgle only moments before. The silver bot was painted liberally with the harsh red of blood, the saw held in a shaking grip tight enough that the handle was bending under the strain.

The shout was enough to draw an overbright green gaze, steam hissing from seams as The Spine was left meeting the gaze of his creator, a horrible cold despair sinking into his core, fresh oil once again tracking his face as he froze. His anger, his fury at the men who'd harmed his brothers, who'd killed Rabbit, and maybe even Hatchworth... it had shielded him from the overwhelming grief, but at the sight of their Pappy, the anger fled, a numb sort of shock settling in it's place.

Even with a setting as messy and chaotic as this one, it was easy enough to see that Rabbit was dead, with the gaping crater that had previously been his copper chest and the missing pulsating, blue core that had been his life-force. But was of Hatchworth? Was it too late to save the youngest Walter?

The explosion had The Jon flinching against his twin and finally opening his optics, unable to sit still and simply wait any longer. Those brassy arms held firm against the other The Jon, but his body shifted, moving to stand up, to take the other with him so they could see what was going on.

And what a sight to awaken to. Even if the sight of Pappy brought a settling, deep comfort to The Jon - Pappy could fix anything - the image of Rabbit's empty, mutilated chest (for a second time!) was too much to ignore. And the blood.

All that blood.

If automatons possessed the ability to vomit, there was no doubt at all that those skinny knees of his would buckle and the contents of his stomach would have been all over the floor in a half an instant. But that otherworldly strangeness always did manage to take over The Jon at such random intervals, his whimsy and cheerfulness wiped away at the sight, but a sudden firmness in his resolve. Seeing Rabbit break down was one thing.

But to see The Spine in such a state? It triggered something within The Jon, some fear that pushed him on forward.

"C'mon, Jon, we g-gotta go help Pappy an' Spine, okay?"

The second The Jon didn't crack his optics open until they were both on their feet (and when had that happened? He didn't remember standing up, although he'd been so busy holding onto his twin that he'd barely noticed anything else). Once he did, he instantly regretted it. The bloodstains and Rabbit's open chassis were enough to get another whine of feedback from him, although it wasn't as panicked as before - having the Other The Jon in a more lucid, controlled state definitely helped, as did the eventual sight of Pappy. Their father could fix this, right? That's what genius-inventors-slash-mechanics did.

The Jon nodded and gave a static-filled hum that was probably meant to be affirmative, then followed it up with a mental nudge and a quick /Okay/ as they started heading towards the rest of their family, The Jon still clinging to his double like a lifeline.

/Spine?/ There was a tentative mental poke over the network, just to give his older brother a heads-up on their approach. The last thing Spine needed right now was to be startled. /Sorry, we opened our eyes before you said to./

"The Spine," calmly, as calmly as he could manage with the sight before him, yet firm at the same time, "Drop the saw and come away from there."

Why couldn't he have found this place earlier, before the explosion? He had been so close, so very close, he might have been able to do something. Rabbit didn't look good at all, feeling his heart sink at the sight of him and the rest of his boys. Oldest and youngest strapped down, the middle children looking as if they'd seen Hell.

Peter moved over rubble and approached the tables then, a tremble to his hands as he saw to the restraints, "I need help getting them loose," to take them out of here, get them all away from this nightmare, "and carrying them out of here." Anywhere but here.

The Spine was mute at this point, optics dimming slightly as he followed his creator's instruction, the saw slipping from nerveless fingers to splatter in what was left of Rabbit's murderer. If the tall bot heard The Jon's apology, he gave no sign, just silently moving to the table Peter was at, to help remove the restraints on his siblings.

Other than the hiss of steam, the tick of internals, there was not a sound from the silver bot.

The Jons remained in their latched together position, shuffling closer to their brothers and creator, blue optics passing over the scene and for once, seeing everything.

How could people hurt like this? How did they gain actual satisfaction from the suffering of another? Why did the world simply not possess the same amount of endless, innocent love as the brassy 'bot did for it in return?

The world was indeed a scary place.

"He hurt his voice box," The Jon finally piped up to his creator, a bobbing head nodded towards his double. It may have seemed like the wrong time to address such a minor injury compared to the terrible carnage before them, but it had been deeply ingrained in the younger automaton's mind to speak out on injuries immediately before his spacey thoughts drifted away and he forgot.

Tell him what to do and The Jon would try to assist.

Even after 117 years and four horrific wars, this was one concept that The Jon would never be able to understand. Humans made no sense to him, sometimes.

/It's okay, it's--/ The Jon cut himself off once he remembered that their father couldn't hear anything over the network, opened his mouth and came up with a garbled mess of white noise when he tried to speak, and finally just settled for nodding and looking a bit sheepish.

Two sets of brassy hands waiting for directions, Pappy. They'll help out in any way they can.

"We'll look him over when we get out of here, I can fix his voice box," it would be similier to fix, it would be looking at something else other than--

"You two can help get Hatchworth loose, can't you?" It would be better to get them both undone as quickly as possible. How long before other people involved in this little situation would start showing up? Spine covered in all of that blood, one man still on the floor near them and what he believed to be another where Spine had come over from. This was not a good situation to be found in.

"Once both of them are undone, whoever can lift them do so. We need to move quickly," looking anywhere but directly at Rabbit as he worked as quickly as his own trembling hands would allow on those restraints.

Between Peter and The Spine, Rabbit's frame was loosened from the table and restraints easily enough. Optics dimmed, almost completely, the silver bot eased his older brother's ruined body into his arms with a gentleness that was completely at odds with the violence he'd inflicted on those responsible.

And despite the need for urgency, he turned, heading back towards the ruin of the observation room window. Glass shards crunching under his feet, he shifted Rabbit's limp body in his arms so that he could reach down, scoop up the corroded jaw that had splintered the glass before. Standing again, he rearranged his grip; the copper bot's ruined chest turned in against his, head resting against a silver shoulder. It... hurt, looking down, seeing the gaping hole, the dark lifeless optics. At least this way... he could pretend for just a short while that he hadn't failed his brother.

Between the two Jons, Hatchworth was released from his firm restraints, a gentle golden tap on his shoulder to hopefully rouse him from his stasis, but with no reaction, the two worked together to move their shorter and younger brother out with the rest of their family, away from this facility, never once looking back.

Though even without looking back for that final view, it was likely a sight that would be added to their collection of expanding nightmares. It may not have been a battlefield, but the emotional damage (and more than just some physical) had been done.

The trek away from the place the Walters had been stolen away to was silent, besides perhaps a few muttered soft phrases from the first The Jon, each step heavier than the last, the sky above growing darker as they continued on towards the rented laboratory that was their current shelter, the realization that at least one of their family was gone only settling in.

But at least the lights were on and there was some welcoming familiarity there at their temporary home, The Jons moving to quickly deposit Hatchworth before the first took his damaged twin aside to track down Michael. They would need all of the help they could get for this.

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