[09:13] You were not up by your own volition. The bluish gray under your eyes and the toothpaste lingering on the corner of your lips reflecting back at you in your bathroom mirror emphasized just how exhausted your body felt. But the sun was high and there was work to be done. Specifically, a certain robot needed tending to.
As you aggressively brushed the toothpaste away with the back of your hand, you paused, overhearing an odd squeaking sound coming from your back porch. The abrasive noise was then followed by the softest of sounds, an excitable ‘oi’.
Leaning against the doorframe, you observed Robot!Mark’s hands flapping in the air, the squeaking of the metal under his artificial skin from the quick movements hinting at the materials age and erosion. In front of Mark was your best friend, a small robotic dog you built yourself from the scrap metal you had gathered on your junkyard excursions. Currently, the pup was bounding around, its metal tail wagging adding to Mark’s excitement as “oh my jesus!” and more “oi’ sounds tumbled from his lips.
Once the dog took notice of your presence, it bolted in your direction causing Mark’s gaze to travel towards you as well.
“Sounds like you may need to be oiled.” You laughed, kneeling down to meet your pet. Mark gave you a sheepish smile in response.
“Sorry. The arm thing must be a habit I started before I was brought to the junkyard. Maybe that was one of the first signs that I was becoming conscious, I had developed a mannerism.” At the mention of the junkyard, you noticed Mark’s shoulders seemed to lock up. Quickly, you and your pup made your way over where you gently took Mark’s wrist, lifting it up to inspect while swiping your thumb back and forth in a comforting motion. The dog jumped up and patted at Mark’s leg making him smile.
“It’s cute. Not as cute as those little noises you were making, but adorable nevertheless!”
“Okaaay! That’s enough!”
