I'm not gonna hold back, okay? I believe in you!

"Run, little pirate!" This is the most fun he's had in a while, even if it involves tossing around a poor halpless pirate. Well, actually it's fun because it involves tossing around a halpless pirate. He might even make good tribute to his king.

He looks away for just a moment, and when he looks back, Zero is scampering.... Wait, is he running away? Oh, no no. That's not allowed. Horatio summons up a handful of skellies, physically dragging one up by the ankle. "After him, now!"

It took a bit of a detour to stay out of Zero's path, but Horatio was still able to find his ship pretty easily. The scuzzy thing was red, gold, and black, adorned with swirling patterns and Merchants' livery. The ship was somewhat haphazardly docked, as if Zero planned to gun it as soon as he'd 'won' the battle and made off with Horatio's tribute. 'Crimson End' appeared to be her name, at least from what Horatio could see of her crest.

A knowing look crossed his face. “Don’t worry about being hunted. The most dangerous thing in this city has already decided not to kill you.”

He didn’t care to elaborate, shifting focus with the unpredictable suddenness that had become pretty consistent from him thus far to watch interestedly as his companion pawed around the robotic corpses. His eyes widened with downright excitement when Zero cracked open the metal shell as easily as one might peel a crab. Clearly, this strange “reploid” newcomer had some latent combat know-how, to be able to locate and pierce the vulnerable spot of an unfamiliar foe so effortlessly. This was unequivocally a win in Whatever’s book.

When the towering robot sat down, the lanky young man crept forward and sunk into a crouch in front of him. He craned his neck to get a better view of the wound in question, but he, too, appeared to be totally at a loss.

Scrunching his nose up in thought, he glanced left, then right, scanning the piles of mechanical refuse for something that might be useful—even for an idea.

His eyes widened suddenly.

Zero had already seen his face blank out and reset three or four times at this point—it was becoming par for the course—but there was something profoundly different about his time, because expression stayed frozen, an audible tightness in his throat making his words sound automatic as he slowly stated-

He wasn't concerned by Whatever's closeness, but his statement caught his attention. He looked back up to him with furrowed brows, interpreting his blank expression as dread.

Thankfully, despite being a carborn for years, Xavier still knew how to repair reploids, knowing their functions and anatomy, so it was easy to pinpoint where they needed to be repaired. He held the wounded arm, seeing that it seemed to be bandaged, obviously made by Volnutt as an attempt to keep the coolant from fully leaking out from the injury. It's obvious that the boy had no idea how to repair reploids, which makes sense since he only knew the basics thanks to his training of how to quickly repair his equipment. Unfortunately, it's not enough; his top priority is to get that arm properly repaired until it completely overheats.

“Looks like Rock tried to stop the coolant from leaking out from your arm; it worked, but unfortunately he didn't know how to properly recalibrate it correctly. Leading your arm to start to slowly overheat, it's a miracle that it didn't explode or something related." He chuckled sheepishly once he’s done inspecting and wrapped Zero’s good arm around his shoulder; unlike Volnutt, who struggled with Zero’s weight, Xavier seems to not mind it at all.

"Alright, old friend, let's take you to the workshop to get that arm properly repaired while Rock makes dinner. Roll! I'm going to need your help with this, since I'm going to teach you about reploid repairs,” Xavier assured, calling his daughter to help him. As she was just awkwardly standing in the reunion between old friends, however, she perked up at his request for assistance and a lesson about robotics from her adopted father. Especially in helping her father repair such a fascinating specimen like Zero.

‘Sure thing, Dad!” She chirped, happily accompanying her adopted father and the wet dog to the workshop to repair Zero. The trip towards the worship isn't too long; during their walking, Zero noticed photos of Xavier, Volnutt, Roll, and an old man who's supposed to be the “Gramps” that Volnutt mentioned. But one photo that somewhat caught his attention a\is the one of a tired skinny Xavier happily holding a Baby who’s obviously Volnutt.

To say the least, the houseboat is surprisingly more homelike, like with some added equipment. When they finally made it to the workshop, it looked like any workshop with some exceptions; the work desk is littered with blueprints and tools scattered half haphazardly, and several blueprints are covered in coffee stains, and many coffee mugs are also on the work desk. There's also incomplete weapons in another workbench that seems to be a work in progress.

Xavier sighs, “Roll, how many times have I told you to clean up this mess?” seeming that this isn't the first time dealing with this

Zero's eyes wandered along the hall, admiring all the family photos. Damn, Xavier looked.. so happy. Even in the photos where he looked exhausted.. still, he smiled! A little pang of jealousy twisted Zero's gut, but he couldn't begin to imagine why. Cute family.. comfortable house.. he felt happy for this version of X. Once they entered the workshop, Zero sat where instructed, watching little Roll scutter around to clean. He looked around rather innocently at the room, fascinated by tools he didn't recognize.

"Oh no, you're not leaving!" He barks out, pushing himself off the ground to leap right at Zero; kind enough to even swing a punch at the pirate with the non-searing hand.

The hit nearly doesn't land with how Zero has to skid to a halt, Horatio landing just where the other would've been had he kept running. Instead, he gets another smack over the head by the Lord. "Is that your strategy, running like a headless chicken?"

GUH-- He hit the ground hard, feeling something in his body happen. "Something like that." He wheezed his answer, inaudible from this distance. Well, the Ferry wasn't so bad. He'd have to go get his ship again, then he'd have to get out of there without getting toasted... or sunk... The sound of the blazing rock being lobbed into the air knocked the sense back into him, and he scrambled to his aching feet to dodge. Luckily, the leather he wore didn't catch fire easily- but his metal shackles were another story. As he scrambled through the flaming downpour, he inwardly questioned why he didn't ask Master X to remove his chains. He knew the answer, so he shoved that thought down and focused on surviving again.

Come on, this guy had to have a weakness. He just boils the water he stands in, so he can't cool him off that way. Cutlass is a no-go, talking is hard, pistol doesn't do much.. Time to give up?

Alright, this wasn't so bad. Zero was hesitant to get so close to an Ashen Lord in battle; he was just a man, and hadn't a shred of resistance to fire. Regardless, he was holding his own, mostly. It was an unwise battle, especially alone, but he was after the juicy loot he knew Horatio had with him. Zero went in for a strike, but his cutlass glanced off of the fiery crystals adorning Horatio's body. "Whoops--" he tried to joke, but before he even finished, he was properly smacked in the back of the head by the Lord and knocked off balance. He stumbled forward, trying to let himself roll rather than fall on his own sword.. ..But his head was yanked backwards. He yelped, feeling Horatio's claws gripping his long hair. His cutlass slipped from his grip, and he struggled to get his hands on any part of him to fight back. He was pulled to a standing position, struggling to keep his feet on the ground. Damn, okay, think! He didn't let himself be lifted further, as he hooked his ankle around Horatio's skeletal leg and yanked upwards, knocking him off balance. The two stumbled down, and Zero, still in Horatio's grasp, fumbled with his belt for his gun. The heat was intense, the claw that held Zero felt like burning coals, and the air stung his face. He pulled out his flintlock.. .. Only to have that wrist grabbed and pulled forward, Zero ending up on top of Horatio. "Okay! We're really doing this, huh?" He grunted, punching Horatio in the face with absolutely no effect. He struggled against his grip, but was severely outclassed. No amount of clawing and biting got Zero any closer to freedom. The nearly-ten-foot skeleton was able to slam Zero into the sand, knocking the wind out of him. Dazed, he pathetically kicked at Horatio, visibly weakening as he did so. The heat was too much, the crystals burned his skin where he was gripped, marking him in places. Despite his struggle, Horatio was finally able to get a good grip on his neck, and Zero's resistance slowly faded, staring up at the Ashen Lord with defeated fury. "..Okay! I- hhgk.. I yield, you win!" He wheezed, struggling to keep his grip on Horatio's searing crystallized arm. "We're cool, we're cool--" he made a tapping out motion on Horatio's arm, not expecting to be listened to. Between the grip on his neck and the weight pinning his body down, Zero was running out of air quickly.

Most pirates know to steer away from an Ashen Lord. Even in their weakened state, they pose a formidable threat alone- there's yet to be a fight with several in the field, usually the lesser skellies they can command are enough to tip the fight in their favor, but there's precisely two kinds of pirates that try to fight them.

The overconfident and the greedy. The first will fight like hell until they realize they're woefully outmatched, and the second will go for whatever trick aids them.

Horatio seems in somewhat of a better mood today, he's not outright spewing fire, and the backhand could almost be considered playful, all things considered of who he is and what he does- he chuckles, snatching a handful of Zero's hair and yanking him back and up. It's been a good tussle, but he's got stuff to do, treasure to deliver to his King.

As he's ready to breathe fire into Zero's face, something catches on his leg and yanks- throwing him off balance and onto the sand, some flames coming out as he growls. "You little-!"

Horatio's quick to grab Zero's wrist, snatching him from grabbing his gun- he could scorch him right there, to simply burn and let this little pirate imbecile cook right on top of him.

And yet! He's got fight in him to try and punch him! The shipwright laughs, flipping Zero around and slamming him into the sand, where he shifts his grip to the pirate's neck.

He's not expecting a tap out, and he's observant of the color on Zero's face as he seem to consider. "Oh, you think this is over?"

He stands with Zero's neck still in his hand, making sure to leave the mark of his fingers before tossing him a few feet ahead to a nearby puddle in the sand. "Get up and fight, come on! Run, and I won't be so kind as to send you to the Ferry."

"Aight- aight, hold on-" He spluttered, unsteadily righting himself and dashing towards his cutlass. He didn't want to try juking Horatio, assuming it was actually more expected than going right for his weapon. He dove, grabbing its hilt and leading into a roll. As soon as he was on his feet again, he kept running, glancing to try and guess his next move. He was so stupid for getting so close, and he'd have to try even harder to keep his distance.

"Honestly- Are we cool? I can leave!" Zero waved his arm, voice hoarse. It wasn't really a serious request, as he knew Horatio wasn't going to let him off that easily. To be fair.. it was his fault, the Ashen Lord was just going about his day when Zero decided to jump him. Now think, think... The cliff above had a tasty rock leaning on its edge.. if he could convince the skeleton to chase him up there, he might be able to-

Wonderingly, he stared at Zero, then looked away, a troubled glaze coating his eyes as he digested the friendly comment about himself.

But it wasn’t long before he set his shoulders back and plastered the too-wide smile back on…although it lacked a bit of its usual elasticity.

“Mmm. Ahaha. Sample size is small. But who gives a fack what other people think anyways, right?”

“Now, uh- reeeeeeploids,” he hurried on, tripping over what was indeed evidently an unfamiliar word, “are not somethin’ I know about. But, uh, if you’re talkin’ robotics- well, ya don’t look quite human, but you’re way past any of tha’ scrap heaps they shit outta the lab here, so I don’t think anybody’d clock ya.”

"So true. Doesn't really matter. I spose it does matter if they're also hunting you about it. I wouldn't judge, but.. just need to know how on guard I gotta be." He tried to say that as gently as he could, and honestly he'd feel relieved if his question even came across. Regardless, he knew he'd have to be ready to fight at a moment's notice. He gave a nod in response to that explanation, glancing at the scrap heaps nearby.

"Mmm.. I think so, especially if you can help me glue myself back together. I'm not the best at repairing, but I know enough to not die." His undamaged arm waved in front of his own face, his expression changing to a nervous grin. "Ah- I'm all 'puter on the inside. I try not to dig in it too often, but I'll give it a shot." He turned to one of the carcasses, using his good arm to feel around for an opening or maintenance panel. It didn't take him long to not find one, so he decided to instead rip a panel off with his claws. Shockingly, he was able to pierce one of its weak seams just by crushing it at a seemingly strategic spot.

...Oh. Okay, yeah he. didn't know what he was doing. He assumed that most reploids operate the same.. Admittedly, he hadn't even inspected his wound, nor would he be able to diagnose exactly what he had to fix aside from 'stop bleeding' and 'close it back up'. Hard questions like 'where the hell did my hydraulics go' are best left to the professionals..

“D-Dad, oh my gosh are you okay!?” The boy asked, still worried for his father. Who seems to be lost in his thoughts

Xavier took time to respond as he’s still staring, of an old ghost of his past. Millions upon millions of thoughts echoed in his mind upon seeing his best friend again…but he looked different then the Zero that he knows. Large height, reddish highlights on his long mane, an elegant appearance, also having heels..? The Zero that he knows is more…how he kindly say? Animalistic at best in terms of appearance but he could assume he was brought back like him in a new body…however despite this form he looks worse to wear. Injuries that needed to be fixed.

Knowing his track record with death, this breaks the record of how long it takes for him from cheating death once more.

But Rock said that only he and Roll can help him beg to differ. It’s been so long he’s forgotten how his voice even sou-

“Dad? Hello? Are you okay?” Volnutt asked again, snapping Xavier out from his thoughts. Xavier was able to snap out from his trance looking at Zero to his son and the dropped Bowl of food now on the floor. He tiredly sighed, now turning towards his son.

“I’m okay son, just…surprised to meet our guest…you said that he needs aid?” he asked sheepishly, the sight of his old friend really caught him off guard. But curious of where in the world his son even found him?

“Y-yeah! I hope that you and Roll can patch him up! Also he knows you?” Volnutt asked curiously of how he and Zero knew each other in some capacity.

“It’s a long story son, I’ll explain it eventually but how about you clean up and make dinner for me while Roll and I fix him up?” Xavier settles his boy,

“Of course! I’ll get to it!!” Volnutt concedes as he starts to clean up the mess of food and prepare dinner.

Xavier chuckled before stepping towards Zero, with a Tired smile on his face. This could be a hallucination or his mind playing tricks perhaps since nobody has ever called him or know that old name in years. Despite Barrell and his old pupil knowing his true name they prefer to call him Xavier. So it’s obvious that this man could be Zero

But…

“I don’t know how, or why your here alive but knowing you…Death couldn’t take old friend” in he spoke there was a tone of pure emotion behind those words as he hugged Zero carefully not to crush him.

Zero certainly looked real, and for the most part felt that way, too. As Xavier approached, his posture grew more tense, and for a moment he almost looked like he'd lash out. But.. he didn't. Not when he was hugged. Oh, it's.. it's been a minute, hasn't it? Despite the clear difference between the two, he couldn't shake the tightness in his throat. Luckily, this version of X didn't sound the same, either. Otherwise, he'd be bawling. X always had a tone that made Zero inexplicably emotional. As for the crushing, this Zero was sturdy, towering over Xavier as he stared forward.

Send one for your muse to…

★ - drag my muse by the arm ⁂ - grab my muse by the front of their shirt, possibly shoving them back ✱ - take my muse by the hips to carefully move them out of their way ➜ - smack my muse upside the head ⌧ - grip my muse by the back of the neck © - put a hand on my muse’s back to steer them somewhere ✂ - point sternly at a chair and tell my muse to sit down ✉ - push my muse back down when they try to get out of bed (perhaps involving illness, injury, or sleep deprivation) ☛ - press a finger to my muse’s lips to shut them up ♚ - put a hand on my muse’s knee while sitting next to them, to discourage them from standing up ♧ - slap my muse’s hand away from something they shouldn’t touch ♦ - grab my muse’s hair and yank ♤ - slam a door shut before my muse can leave the room ♞ - physically pick my muse up and carry them ♭ - grip my muse’s jaw to make them look yours in the eye ♨ - rub my muse down with a sponge/wet cloth  ☀ - pin my muse with their arms behind their back ☠ - slam my muse into a wall ☾ - wrestle/pin my muse to the ground

Tellingly, every metal carcass was smeared with sooty scorchmarks.

The other individual—Whatever, as Zero had just mentally dubbed him—seemed unfazed by their surrounding, clearly thoroughly entertained by the unfortunate antics required for the robot to fit through the sewer opening. His red eyes glittered with amusement above the recurring Cheshire grin.

The broad-shouldered, brightly-colored armor was such a huge contrast to Whatever’s sleek, greyscale bodysuit; all of Zero’s proportions were, really, and as he began to lead the way through the darkened tunnels Whatever casted frequent, fascinated glances his way with a shamelessness that made it pretty obvious that he’d either never been taught not to stare or just didn’t care.

They weren’t predatory stares, at least. The twitchy redhead just seemed curious. Maybe even a little delighted.

“Travel,” he responded. “Nobody comes down here. Nobody else with flesh, anyways, and that’s all I really care about. Impossible to get back to center city otherwise, ‘least without getting seen.”

Whatever swiveled on his heel to walk backwards, suddenly very animated. “You could probably pass, if ya weren’t so fackin’ tall, an’ fackin’ bright, and colorful, and circusy, an’ shit. You’re life-like enough. Tuck away that stick-weapon of yours and you might not even get stopped at all. Whoever made you sure musta had quite the sense of style, hmm?” Again, that cartoonish, delighted look crossed his face. “There’s nobody here that makes machines like you. Not nearly a fraction as smart, neither. I wouldn’ta guessed you were a machine if you hadn’t been hurt.”

Zero's gaze snapped back to make eye contact with him as he spun around, startled at first by his sudden change in behavior. He cackled at his comments, happy that the tension was finally broken.

"STOP, you're so right. No, I look terrible," he wheezed between his laughter, "my creator had problems. Most of the look's mine, though." He wiped a tear from his eye, another highly unnecessary trait that he possessed for the sole purpose of human interaction. In his mind, he looked very robotic, but if Whatever thought he'd get by with little issue, he might be right. Oh, wait, but why would he need to lay so low? "People don't like you, huh? Shame, you're funny as hell. Are reploids not liked here, either?" He didn't even consider that his new friend might not be familiar with the term, but he was feeling much more comfortable now, so the thought didn't cross his mind. "I can't even imagine someone thinking I'm human."

Then, he craned his neck back to meet Zero’s gaze properly, and whatever weird reaction he’d had seemed to be smoothed away as he pasted the wide smile back on.

“Zero,” he chirped. It seemed to amuse him.

“No name.” He waved one hand lightly, as if beckoning for Zero to follow as he turned towards the buildings on the skyline that were not burning. “Call me whatever. I don’t care.”

He strode forward with purpose, but took an unexpected left turn at the nearest adjacent alleyway and stopped abruptly at what appeared to be an open sewer entrance.

Sitting glibly on the edge, he swung his long, skinny legs inside, then slipped out of sight seemingly without a second thought.

"Eight feet tall, sure, but I don't know about wide." He sat at the entrance, too, squeezing his wide legs in, then his hips, then going in at a weird angle to get his shoulders through. He stepped down onto the moist ground, relieved that it was wider down here. He also enjoyed that he didn't have to crouch. He rubbed his damaged arm, already feeling how warm it was getting..

Relieved that Zero was kind enough not to be offended by her comment. Before focusing on the reason why his large friend is here in the first place.

“R-right yeah, like he said” Volnutt said looking at the injury and back at his sister. “This situation is a lil…different than usual so we’re gonna need you and Dad’s help for this”

“Why?” Roll asked, curious of her brother’s request

“Well take a look at this”. He shows the injury that Zero showed.

Roll perked up curious about the situation, it’s not like everyday that her brother would bring a whole stranger in the flutter. Normally a person who’s this injured should have gone to a hospital or a doctor. Why in the world would her brother bring this stranger to their home in the first place? Especially that it needs her and Dad’s specifically?

The moment she inspected him, she got her answer. Upon inspection of his damaged arm, her mouth agaped. It’s all wires and metal, not the typical blood and flesh that typical carbons would have even in their “mechanical” parts they have at least some flesh and blood. But nope, this guy is robotic compared to a typical Carbon. Cyborg is out of the question, since the technology is surprisingly advanced compared to other armor and tech that she meddled and seen before.

It resembles a bit of her Adopted father’s armor.

“No…way… ROCK, WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK DID YOU BROUGHT HERE!?” her eyes brightened in pure astonishment, as she looked around Zero inspecting him. Despite his ragged state he’s ornate and fancy, incredibly strong and elegant. “You are one fancy bot sir!” She complimented him, focused on inspecting him.

Volnutt let out a sigh of relief, yet concerned knowing Roll, she’s going to take apart the poor guy without hesitation. He stood between Zero and an excited Roll.

“Rock where on Terra did you find him!?” She asked still in awe of this fine piece of machinery

“It’s kinda a long story, I can explain it when you guys patch him but I need to know is Dad home?” Volnutt asked, its a silly question but it’s important to know since there are times that their father would leave to shop for supplies.

“Oh yeah! He’s at the kitchen making food, I can probably call him up to help” Roll answered

“That’s great-“

“Call me for what exactly?” An older yet softer voice rang to the two siblings.

They turn to the source of the voice. An older man somewhere around his 50’s, he looks like an older version of volnutt with key differences. For one he’s had a bulky soft build (Fancy saying a dad bod), having the exact same X shaped pupils but his eyes are a more Duller version of Volnutt’s, scars donning on his face particularly has one X shaped scar on his right eye. He has the same brown hair as the boy’s but having long white streaks, that is braided into a neat little side braid. He wears a thick turtleneck sweater with a heart stitched on his chest. He looks surprisingly huggable despite his grizzly scars that don on him. Holding a bowl that he was cooking presumably the food. Yep this man is in fact Volnutt’s father Xavier Light.

“I heard a ruckus, I suppose Roll welcomed you back and I heard something about needing my assistance?” He asked amused yet exasperated knowing the antics of these siblings. Also curious

“Yeah, pretty much! We need your help since you know how to tinker with old tech, especially since a friend needs it!” Volnutt exclaimed, as he showed Zero to him.

“Ah so what sort offff….” He stopped as he finally got a good look of what his son brought. His once calm demeanor shifted in pure shock, his eyes widened as he dropped the bowl of food that he’s cooking. In the purest form of disbelief of the person that he’s seeing face to face. Apparently this man is someone that Xavier is all to familiar

"Thanks. Fancy's one way to put it." He chuckled, moving backwards as Volnutt wriggled between them defensively. He realized, too, that Roll was going to disassemble him, so he stood, leaning against the wall for more balance. The voice caught his attention, and he looked up to its source.

X. Definitely X. He glanced over his frame, fascinated by how different he looked from his own. The X he knew was roughly the same height, but fully armored. His skin tone was lighter, but his hair much darker.. it was fascinating how much a single person varied in other universes. His hair prickled up with anxiety when Xavier dropped his bowl. Hopefully, hopefully, he didn't piss him off in this timeline, too. He mustered a nervous, fanged grin, voice thinned to a comedic wheeze.

“Huh?” Volnutt turns towards the red robot who has asked him that particular question. “Yeah, he mostly hangs somewhere in the ship lemme ge-“ it was a split second but suddenly a loud WACK as volnutt is suddenly struck by a wrench by the head at impressive speed and accuracy.

“OW! What the heck!?” He yelped, rubbing his head where the wrench hit him.

“There you are Rock! I've been calling you for HOURS!” A loud voice came from the direction where the wrench was thrown.

It was a young girl around Volnutt’s age, she has messy hair with slightly darker blond compared to Zero’s, her lime green eyes staring down at him, with scratches on her face and arms at the center of her nose has a band aid. She wears a particularly large red Cap that was worn down with the orange cloth stitched on it, with a red shirt with pockets, baggy pants that also has pockets with a belt that holds her tools, and brown gloves that are covered in oil.

“Oh! Hi Roll…” he nervously smiled, oh right his sister. He almost forgot about her.

“Don’t you go Hi Roll at me! You went off on a dig WITHOUT ME!?” She yelled even harder at him, ruffling her brother

Volnutt couldn’t help but to roll his eyes letting out an exasperated sign. “I asked if you wanted to help out, but you said that you’re busy.” he retorted towards her sticking his tounge at her

“Shit your right— but that doesn’t excuse the fact that you went solo! Just because Dad allowed you to go Digging on your own, that doesn’t mean you have to run off like that! Were a team, remember?” She argued back at her brother, despite her angered state there’s a tone of worry.

“I know…sorry for worrying you sis, but on the bright side I got us a refractor!” He showed his sister the glowing gem

“Oh that’s good, but still what-“ she paused looking behind her brother of the looming red figure, she inspercts him. Studying him down a little, he looks fancy yet fierce with ridiculously long blond hair.

Zero felt relieved to know he didn't come off as an immediate threat, seeing as Volnutt was more in danger than anyone else. When Roll focused her attention on him, he waved with his calm, blank expression. Again, the comment about his tits nearly made him laugh, but he instead closed his eyes and pursed his lips for a moment.

He is relieved that Zero was considerate enough to relieve the weight to give his shoulder a break. He huffed looking around his surroundings as the both of them are walking in the path, taking in the warm sun and cool breeze of the island until they both see a ship up ahead he sighs in relief.

‘Oh thank Asimov we docked so close by’ He thought to himself, Canary island wasn’t exactly a large island per say compared to Kattletox but it’s does have its own small trading town and the folks are nice to say the least. They don’t usually have problems with Digoters compared to other islands since…well aside from the Legends of the Nocturne Beast.

The docks isn’t to far to the where the ruins is plus, thankfully the shortcut is able to get the two of them to the flutter. The Flutter it’s not as impressive of an air ship in terms, but it’s basically a decently sized ship with its upgrades that was done over the years since him and his father moved with them when he was a baby. Its warm red yellow colors gives it that rustic vibe, gramps insisted to keep it since it gives that nostalgic feeling. It’s always nice to come back home after a long day…

Ah home sweet home….

“Alright, Zero we here! This is the Flutter!! It’s not impressive but it’s home!!” He happily exclaimed, showing up the house boat to his red friend.

Finally, the ship appeared in the distance. Woof.. Zero was just as relieved as Volnutt was. Luckily for the Flutter, Zero was appreciative of all flavors of vehicles and airships. His favorite was his own ride chaser, the Crimson End. Ah.. Crimson End... Thunk. Zero forgot to duck as the two entered, bumping his head on the frame. Rubbing his head, he glanced around at the cozy interior.

"Hey, home's home. I get it. Cozy place!" Zero paused, then leaned down towards Volnutt. "Erm.. Is your dad home?" he stood rather awkwardly, as he still felt like he was a making a mistake walking into this kid's house. He wasn't ready to fight people off right now. Maybe ZERO was too trusting, and this kid was just bait for him to get lured away. No, that's nonsense, Zero! Nonsense. It's a kid. Relax.

“Gotta be a person for questions to be personal,” he commented lightly.

Then he refocused on Zero, his gaze flicking between the robot’s fixed stare, the spot where his injury had been, and the saber the newcomer had carefully retrieved.

“Field work,” he answered. It was hard to tell whether he was being cryptic on purpose, or whether that was genuinely all he thought there was to say—there was a matter-of-factness to the way he uttered those two words that suggested he genuinely believed he’d summed the cause of the conflagration up adequately.

“You’re lost…if you are from around here,” the young man mused. “And you’re a weapon, but you’re coughing. You make no sense, metal man.”

Easing up to his feet, he extended a hand, the unsettlingly wide smile splitting his face once more. “Well, if the metal man breathes, he needs out of the smoke, right? One weapon to another. Where are you trying to go?”

"Home isn't really an option. Just need some place to get my head working again, if you know a spot." His voice was indeed hoarse from the smoke, something that was coded into him to warn him of unsafe air. Couldn't filter air if he was clogged with soot, could he? Zero released his grip, placing his hand on his hip. "Name's Zero, by the way. You got a name?"