#spark lore

(I’m kidding of course these last two aren’t canon)

“Woah this is… this is remarkable,” B-12 blurted out, studying the mural in astonished wonder.

A small meadow near a forest. Yellow flowers covered the grassy fields, and a tiny black and white blob basked under the sunlight, peering just over the horizon.

It was rather simple really, nothing that would immediately catch your eye passing by, just existing silently amidst the chaos of conspicuous graffiti and a sea of posters.

A mere moment of peace stuck in time forever, tucked away in a dark alley further than most of the villagers had the guts to go, for barely anyone to see.

It wasn't at all like he was used to, like those nauseatingly familiar sandy beaches plastered on every flickering screen, burned into the back of his scattered mind. A false paradise, and a foolish hope to soothe none…

Serene was the first word that came to mind, and he couldn't help but agree.

“I'm glad at least someone seems to like it.”

He halted, then quickly whipped around to face their new company, nearly losing control of his jet doing so.

They didn't seem to return the sentiment though, their hands clasped loosely behind their back and their screen still glued to the wall.

They were wearing a striped button up, one side hastily tucked into their black sweatpants, and a silver pocket watch hung at their neck, clinking gently against their metal torso.

He waited for a moment before speaking up again, his voice wavering slightly.

“Who?”

“Do you want to go there? The outside I mean,” they interrupted, not even acknowledging his question.

Their voice had a pleasant, gentle tone to it with a hint of playfulness and sincere curiosity that he simply couldn't ignore.

“Yes that's right! Me and my friend over here” -he said excitedly, gesturing to the cat with a flick of his antennae- “are heading there, but we currently have no idea how to well… how should I say this… proceed? You don't happen to know of a way, do you?”

“Me too,” they answered, completely ignoring his question once again.

A little too rude for his liking, but that feeling quickly disappeared the moment they finally turned to meet his gaze. A warm, welcoming smile projected on their sunrise-tinted screen.

“I want to go there too.”

The white paint of their casing, rusted and chipped at the corners with moss growing on it, and two antennae sticking out the top of their head, jerking about almost like cat ears. He found the sight quite peculiar.

There was a strange warmth to their presence, one that clashed with the enternal coldness of the Slums. Like a ray of sunshine shining through a particularly overcast sky.

And maybe it was just the harsh neon reflecting off their casing, but they sort of looked like they were glowing.

They just stood there, their smile unwavering before it suddenly shifted into what could only be described as shock mixed with a hint of embarrassment, their posture going stiff.

“Oh I haven't introduced myself yet, how rude of me!” they exclaimed, a hand shooting to their screen before an awkward smile stretched across it.

Then they quickly cleared their voice box and stood up robotically straight, placing a hand on their chest before bowing down to them playfully.

B-12 couldn't help but smile to himself at their antics. Whoever this strange robot was, there was this undeniable charm to the way they presented themselves that he found intriguing.

He didn't know how or why, but he had a hunch that they would get along wonderfully.

“The name's Tee and I'm the one responsible for all of this… mess,” Tee said with a quiet chuckle, motioning to the mural with a lazy flick of her wrist.

It sounded a bit too self-deprecating to be entirely a joke, but he decided not to comment on it.

After all, they had only met a few minutes ago, and he had the feeling she wouldn't appreciate him poking his antenna into her business.

“And to answer your question…”

They both perked up.

“I have no idea!”

The disappointed expressions that flashed across their little faces made her want to laugh, but she quickly stopped herself. Her smile then grew softer, more reassuring as she continued.

“Buuut I know of someone who might be able to help us!”

“His name's Momo and he's one of the Outsiders, or well… what's left of them.” It was then her smile wavered slightly, a heavy feeling settling deep in her core.

Momo, the only other person to ever compliment her craft. She hadn't seen him in a while, had he really given up? At least that's what the locals whispered among themselves…

“Though he might have given up on leaving, but simply asking won't hurt I suppose.”

Them at least. Truthfully, she dreaded asking him in particular, knowing how much sadness it would bring him, but they really had no other choice, as one member of the group had apparently disappeared a few years back after venturing outside the safe zone on his own, and the rest had gone through the sewers, never to be heard from again.

He was the only one left. Their only clue in this "getting outside" riddle.

“The Outsiders. They were a group that dedicated their lives to reaching the Outside. I've never got the chance to meet them since they well… went missing some time before I… came to this place…” She then quickly clapped her hands together. A loud clang echoed through the street, startling them slightly.

“What I'm trying to say is that Momo is our safest bet!”

“Sounds like a solid plan to me.” B-12 nodded along, motioning for her to take the lead with a flick of his antennae, and her smile promptly returned to her screen, brighter than ever.

“Lead the way then!”

“My pleasure!” she exclaimed, saluting to them playfully then turning on her heel to look around the street, eyes brushing past the dozens similarly looking doors on the dozens of similarly looking buildings and felt her core sink a little.

“His flat… where was his flat again?” She tapped her chin, pixelated brows furrowing deep in thought.

“It was this way I think,” she muttered, not sounding particularly convinced herself. Then she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and made a full one eighty, startling them again.

“No it was the other way! Alright follow me!” They stared at her retreating back as she made her way down the street, then shared an uncertain glance before quickly trailing after her.

If you’re familiar with my Blazer backstory ramble, you know about Zeke- Eddie’s first apprentice/adoptee; a bright orange bot who brought Eddie & Blazer together… until she made the fatal mistake of attempting to enter the sewers alone.

Eddie’s devastation about losing them was deep, especially since Zeke’s mother Karen- who hated Eddie with a burning passion- continued to blame and berate him for years after her son’s death.

Far later, after the city opens, Dolly would meet Wythe online; playing games together before moving to chat privately, and the two grow extremely close. Wythe tells her about its long lost older brother, who its mom won’t even mention but plenty of people around the slums seem to recall fondly. Dolly suggests xe talk to her grandpa Eddie about them- he knows just about anyone- and Wythe agrees.

Payton answers the door to a small, bright orange bot with a white screen asking for Eddie.. and nearly begins to panic. The similarities between the two are terrifying- did Karen clone Zeke?

Xe explain that xyr name is Wythe and xe don’t actually know much about Zeke, and Payton decides to give xem Eddie’s number rather than introduce them outright; it’s been years, but the grief is still raw on its shoulders.

The two talk for a while (Eddie speaks minimally, but types in MLA formatted paragraphs) and eventually Eddie allows xem to visit his workshop. The sight of xem is still.. rather jarring.. but even moreso is how quickly Wythe found Eddie’s work fascinating- just like its sibling, Wythe wants to become his apprentice.

Eddie is hesitant, but with Payton’s encouragement he allows the bittybot closer to his heart— teaching it mechanics, hospitality, and how to fight- which would help xem get out of a good handful of sticky situations.

Leading a secret night-life away from xyr overbearing mother- Wythe starts to grab its own life by the horns, taking on a very punk & anti-fascist aesthetic to match its growing belief in the power of community. Eddie and Payton set a very good example of what it means to be there for people, both physically and emotionally; and Wythe makes it xyr to goal to follow in their footsteps.

That’s not all for Wythe’s story; but I’ll leave the rest in the air for now :)

This is a surprisingly hard question to answer— despite having a BUTTLOAD of money, Theo tends to be hesitant to spend it on xemself. Most of his income that can be considered disposable ends up going back into the city— small businesses, non-profits, and later; efforts to revive the Dead City. Theo’s no greedy hoarder— It’s the easiest and most effective method of giving back that he and his position has ☝️

If I had to say a single expensive purchase, it’d have to be him managing to get xir hand on a bolt of real, pristine, human-era silk.. nobody has cultivated that fabric in thousands of years— and quite frankly I think he’s afraid of using it. Xir skills may be unmatched, but something about having something that rare is just so, so scary…

8. Describe the place where they sleep.

I can’t draw rooms for shit so here’s a hodgepodge of images for reference;

Luxurious is definitely an understatement- a king size bed with warm, fluffy pillows and a comfy shag carpet… the most notable thing here would have to be the fairy lights, which give a cozy dim glow at all times. Xe hung them after getting rescued; typically xe were the type to only ever be able to enter sleep mode in a completely dark room, but after spending a week and a half in a pitch black basement, lit only by his eye or Raf’s green glow… pure darkness is more than a little unsettling. The fairy lights add a touch of warmth if/when he wakes up in the middle of the night.

I’d also like the note that he’s the type to keep the place almost obsessively tidy. It drives xem a little insane to see clothes on the floor or a pillow out of place- and it’s not uncommon to find him walking in circles picking up Bits off the floor when he’s trying to think.

10. What objects do they always carry around with them?

One of my favorite things to take note of !!

He’s practically a walking emergency sewing kit, carrying needles, pins, thread, a measuring tape, scissors, thread wax, and xir trusty fluffy pen & spiral bound notebook. Forgetting these supplies is— to him— equivalent to forgetting his head.

This also made me think of him with a gay little tote bag . Dolly painted a hydrangea on it and he uses it whenever they go for walks, errands, or other outings :)

5. What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances?

Emotional whiplash… content warning for discussion of suicide.

Usually, Theo’s far more likely to cry under happier circumstances- feeling like the people around him are genuinely behind his back, that he can trust and be trusted by those he calls friends- it’s surprising how often he forgets about that… but the first thing I thought of— and the most heartbreaking— was the day the city opened.

After getting the witness the miracle of the sun shining on the Walled City’s streets for the first time in millennia, that joy would be ripped away the moment that they found Dolly. Curled on the floor in a slick, pitch black pool of oil.. one hand grasping a pair of scissors.

It takes only a moment’s investigation to find how and why this happened. And it takes zero hesitation for Theo to finally rid the world of its most vile pest. But even with him gone, xir daughter couldn’t come back.

Her attempt on her own life left her processor drowned in oil, ruining it- and her ability to boot up again- permanently. Too little, too late. And the idea of losing her, of it being because he was too focused on helping Blazer through betraying the outsider in a repairable way, too focused on xir own recovery after being rescued from Raf— she never even had a chance to tell him what she was going through.

He clutches her hand, limp and cold, and all he can do is sob. With anger. This is all your fault.