#bytespeak

Whumpee's only comfort is Caretaker, an anonymous messenger who pops into Whumpee's comms every day for a chat. Caretaker promises to bring whumpee home so they can partake in a dance together- something whumpee is fascinated with ever since caretaker mentioned it.

After a particularly dreadful interaction with whumper, whumpee talks with caretaker and decides to grab the battery. Caretaker encourages the act, saying "now is the perfect time". So whumpee goes for it.

They manage to grab the battery.

The wires in their back pop out.

Whumpee shuts off, one hand clutching the battery and the other grazing the entrance.

Whumpee's programming is naturally that of a caretaker, and despite having patched glass on their back and being on their fourth set of limbs, whumpee will sometimes approach whumper with gifts of trinkets or small activities.

Waiting on an order of new hands, Whumpee approaches whumper asking if they could get help trimming a sick plant's infected leaves. Surprisingly, whumper seems happy to oblige, saying they know some medicine that would help the plant. This delights whumpee.

A few days later, whumpee is having a panic attack. Their "organs" were shriveling up and decaying inside them, along with their beloved snail. Naively, whumpee pleads with whumper, who only laughs and twists their arm. It pops from the socket, being used to create a massive web of cracks in their side.

Whumpee finally registers whumper as a threat and flees.

Once Caretaker finds them, whumpee has lost a leg and their only remaining hand. All the water in their torso seems to have spilled out their side, the cracks giving way to a gaping hole.

Caretaker couldn't figure out why whumpee was always anxious and freaking out, being gentle and compassionate with the machine. One of the first things Caretaker did was patch the hole in whumpee's side, so they were at a loss on what to do to help whumpee. It takes caretaker months to realize the source of the distress, gifting whumpee new, young aquatic plants and a tiny snail.

part 2 (part 1)

A soft click brought me back to life, immediately turning my head to orient myself. It was dim, with slate grey walls that seemed to be made of concrete. Creator was waiting, looking up at me with their lips curled upwards in a strangely cold expression. It was hard to tell their intentions in the low light. They lifted their hand to my face, touching and causing all the feeling to come back. Sensations... I couldn't tell if they were good, bad, or some muddy gray spot. I didn't lean into the feeling this time, I knew they disliked it. So I sharply tilted my head away, watching Creator's reaction.

Gimme your Whumpees, please. I wish to sketch them in cozy clothing and generally in a content- maybe even ~happy~ state

For the first few months, they explore the other antiques, they wish to chat with customers and fix any out of tune music box or chipped vase. Gradually, their metal and leather frame begins grinding against itself, losing mobility.

Two years after arriving, they're most often mistaken as a statue, a frozen artifact of a bronze and steam era. Sometimes a child will poke at the shining steel pocket in their back, a tiny flash of static giving just enough power for a brief crackle of a voice box in their chest.

Until they wake within a cozy home; with warm lighting from large open windows and a shining wooden floor fitted with a little gray rug. Someone smiles, massaging oil into their stuck joints. Little by little, they begin to move again.

"Well aren't you a curious little guy!"

The human is very kind, letting the machine explore and giving them a few days to adapt. The human sits them down after those few days, explaining that they want to do some maintenance on them; they're more than happy to oblige.

That is, until they begin to feel the human's hands, attaching wires and adding more sensations. They're confused, looking back to ask why. The human just laughs, tickling the machine and making them emulate something resembling a giggle. In the midst of their laughter, it sharply turns to a screeching sound. The human is holding a few torn wires, watching them hit the floor with a tight fist and sputter a million questions about the bad feeling, the horrible- evil feeling.

More.

They couldn't see.

What was human doing?

They wanted to scream, but their voice was muted as its wires became twisted into a useless knot in their neck. Human was murmuring gentle words, their shivering body making such a ruckus with all its parts clinking against one another; they couldn't hear a single thing.

Their back panel was shut tight, a warm hand rubbed their head and began to guide the jittering mess through a door.

It was raining outside, every drop of water that slipped in between their bronze and leather shell felt burning, slipping between stretched out seams and cracking metal. They flinched and twisted as the feeling covered them, like a box of nails forced into every exposed crevasse. Human held their hand, giving a cold, robotic rub over the soft backing of it. They felt like falling to their knees and screaming as loud as they could, but the ground was wet, and burned their feet as it seeped through the metal soles. They couldn't scream if they wanted to, anyway.

The rain's pitter-patter was out of sync with their clitter-clatter. Human raised his voice.

"Sure is nice. I knew you'd like it."

Their body tensed and twitched in response, unable to move how they wanted. Everything gave out, hitting the ground with one arm held up by Human's hand. Laying on hot coals, their hearing cut in and out, sensations becoming erratic.

Shutting down.

"Useless."

Left in a scrapyard, an arm and both legs taken. Leather stripped from their body.

"Well isn't this a curious little thing..."

Something was tickling at their back, and something clicked into place. Their head jerked up, screaming in agony as their remaining arm clawed at thin air. Unable to hear the frantic voice trying to reassure them, they continued to thrash until their screaming turned to soft cries.

Their vision blurred, becoming focused as those mystery hands worked. Everything was tainted with a strange snow overlay, they'd need replacements for their eyes. Looking down, they found where all the strange have-not sensations came from; also discovering they were suspended. Their head was turned to one side, then the next, then pushed forward.

"... Okay, was that the right one? I'm sorry I scared you."

They turned to look at the Human, much different from the other; a little crooked smile with shining, kind eyes in a darker shade of brown.

"He-llo."

"Hi buddy. Don't worry, I'll find some limbs for you in a bit. Do you know where you came from?"

They hesitated, giving a stiff nod.

"Oh- can you tell me your name? Do you have one?"

They shook their head. "N-o name."

"Can I call you..." "Bud-dy." "You wanna be Buddy?" "... Bu-ddy. Ye-s."

Human's smile seemed to grow.

"Okay, Buddy."

Caretaker focuses on covering the wounds and doing their best to help Whumpee recover, but eventually they have to bathe Whumpee, and they need to check their eyes.

Whumpee is confused, catching a glimpse of their reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Caretaker hugs Whumpee as they hide their face in Caretaker's chest and cry.

They did not anticipate seeing Whumper, looming over them with a sick smile. Just like before.

"Welcome back."