IGNITE MY CIRCUITS ---START AFLAME.

   “Keep goin’. D’you see anything red?”

   She cranes her neck to look around and behind her, perfectly content to be held like this. She did ask to be picked up, after all, and she is taller like this.

                " RED? well, su-su-su-sure.                   i have red buttons on my skirt.                    you have red lips.                   tha-tha-tha-THAT LADY, she has a red scarf                   and a red leash for her dog. red strawberries                   in that window. that angry man over there? RED.                   red car on the street. red light. red. red everywhere.                   E-E-E-E-ENDLESSLY RED. heh. what do you have in                   mind, kiddo ? "

After a considerable amount of time passed, the Spine had ended up in the Hall of Wires in order to find ways to distract himself.    Rabbit has her letters, && that tiny music box, && the Spine has ———w e l l, he has his thoughts… && a lot of time to dwell on them.  119 years they’ve been at this… being alive, in a way  that  doesn’t  quite  add  up  to  the denotative  meaning of the word. ALIVE. could he crave such a  thing?? to feel && touch && age. Even die?? Morbid  a thought though it may be— some days he just wishes to cease. && as he does a few repairs on some wires && such, with QWERTY for company, his mind drifts  to thoughts of his creator. How he would have been  proud of them for carrying on the way they had— maybe even given praise for the show on Saturday, or, or !!—- 

                              ❝ hey, spine … ❞ 

he’s suddenly reminded that his pappy is …  no, rabbit’s question throws him off guard, &&  he squints at her, almost confused as to what  she means. but then he remembers.  1     9     5     0 he almost, ALMOST flashbacks to the days events, but he forces himself not to. instead, a puff of steam escapes his lips, && he focuses his gaze on his sister.                                                         "   ———cause I wasn’t 'bout to                                                              lose another family member                                                              that day, rabbs. especially not                                                              you.   ”

Lips curl downward in something of a frown. Yeah. Okay. Loss. That was a good answer, she supposed. But for some reason, the more she thought about it, the more frustrated she got. Which is why, sometimes,  she just preferred to not think. It was just an act, most of the time, on stage or at home. She let out a rather large exhale of steam, hanging her head with a loud squeak and groaning a low-toned groan.

                      ❝  ----------- thanks, spine.                           i-i-i-i CAN'T STOP thinking                           about it. how do you make                           those BAD THOUGHTS go                           a w a y ? 'm trying so-so-so-so                           haaaaaaard to move ON, but                           i C A N ' T.  -- i can't ge-ge-get                           past PW2 and GUY and JULIA                           a-a-a-a-a-aaaaaaaaand ------ ❞

Her head jerked to the side with a mighty squeak and steam released from either side of her cheeks, and immediately before she  could give her body a chance to malfunction, she started tuning the knob on her headpiece. Her spine went back up into proper straightness, her head in the right place (neck preferably  un-snapped), and she cleared her throat. That was a close one. A malfunction was the last thing she needed, and she ignored the oil she could feel bubbling to the surface soon.