#the-broken-variable

@the-broken-variable @a-fading-light

As with all of my art, I have some guidelines:

Please do NOT tag as KIN, SELF, ETC.

Please do NOT copy, trace, crop, repost, etc.

Please do NOT use this for icons without asking me first.

Please do not remove my captions!

[[ @the-broken-variable​ ]]

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My old…?

The blond’s head tilted lightly at the smaller machine, subtle confusion painting itself across his face. Rock’s moods really were hard for him to trace. Earlier he’d been angry, frustrated, usual flavors that he’d only begun to get used to, but this… casualness… Never before had he seen such a thing on the Light-bot.

“What… are you talking about?” I’ve always worn this…?

That expression-- MZ used to be hard to read, but that? The vamploid is clearly puzzled. Just a few degrees off surprised, really. Why would..? 

Rock glances around the living room, frowns slightly. A few things are missing, and the arrangement has a more nostalgic air, which could only mean... ah shit I fucked up. That had not, in fact, been the portal home. Or rather it had been, but the wrong home.

“THE FUCK DID YA JUST SAY T’ ME?!” 

Seems the tables have turned, given the General’s taunting is currently being flipped on him. Rock’s kick sweeps past his taller opponent, only the rush of air grazing the blond’s frame. 

A challenger has approached

⋆𝐿𝓊𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒⋆

Oh-

Been a long time since someone has come to challenge me

He had been going through some older files, seeing if there was a way to crunch and compress anything before the archives were to be moved so he could build more servers for programming and client business. The message flashed across his vision and he sighed, but-

“Hm... Light Era? I suppose this mystery caller means pre-Cataclysm times...” A quick scan through his immediate systems let him know there were a few, not many and not expansive, folders in the archives about the time.

In the maintenance hanger, both its current occupiers would quickly look up from what they’d been doing to the new voice apparently requesting tours of all things.

The taller of the two sibling reploids would almost jump to attention having taken the opportunity for a quick break out of the way of prying eyes, the book he’d been reading clapping shut and slid on to the table.

The other smaller of the two would grunt in confusion, rolling herself out from underneath the large fighter jet she’d been working on. The loose boiler suit and parts of her face smudged intermittently with oil and other machine workings.

“I don’t recognise your face, which probably means you’re probably not supposed to be in here signore.” The stern tone of the smaller female reploid would reprimand, placing her tools down and sitting back up to look at the new comer.

“Hey, take it easy Avi. He’s probably lost. Not the first time a new private has taken a more creative route.” Reed would adjust his shades to take a look at the new face. “Afraid we’re not the tour guides you might be looking for, but my sister has a point. You probably shouldn’t be in here. Want me to show you to reception?”

Basalt had been snuffling about in a dried-up riverbed, his earth/gemstone detection ability scanning the area around him for anything interesting.

He hadn’t felt a need to have his seismic detection ability on though, so when a voice spoke up, Basalt let out a startled squawk with a heavily-damaged voice box. This caused the squawk to come out distorted with heavy static.

Spinning around, the injured eight-legged reploid stared at the newcomer like a frightened animal. Body stood side-ways on to them, with the clam-shell bucket on the end of his tail opening and closing in short, rapid bursts as a fearful warning to keep their distance.

No approaching footsteps, nor any other reverberating sounds signaled the arrival of this larger reploid. The small, mobile camera almost clattered to the cement floor if Jayden’s reactions hadn’t been quick enough. 

The evening seemed like the right time to snoop around some of more crumbling, abandoned outskirts of Abel City. It’d been fairly easy to reach this section thanks to her bike, but of course her mom grew a bit concerned on her sudden departure from home. 

‘Work business. I should be back within the hour.’

If personal projects accounted for anything news related. 

“...mistake?” Outwardly the woman with two off-colored irises appeared calm after the small startle. Her camera folded in but hadn’t stopped recording. She gave the stranger her full attention squaring up with broad shoulders and a curious brow.