Coal's Cinders
Currently venturing into the kitchen area of the apartment, Siarnaq paused a short moment, hearing his partner whisper to him on the comm again. Interesting information? From just these words, the reploid hypothesised what it was that Aeolus could possibly be doing at this very moment. Was he speaking with those he had made alliance to? If so, the situation’s clarity would increase very much in a small amount of time. He would look forward to analysing said information when the man inevitably relayed it back to him. That was, if his assumption was correct, anyway. Siarnaq would be made aware of that later.
The mention of food, however, stole his attention. Food translated to energy restoration, which was very high in priority at the moment, as his systems were already running on 78% power. Such would only continue to fall in the coming hours if he did not eat. Storage compartments, he said. He’d be sure to give a thorough search…
Given the permission to use the premises supplies to his ‘heart’s content’, the reploid exhaled, turning on his comm to simply reply, “ROGER”. He fully understood the need for radio silence, as they had often done so in their past missions together in attempts to ensure success. Being told to ‘take care of himself’, he nodded a bit to himself, subsequently turning off his comm to initiate radio silence and begin his search for the mentioned (and soon to be dire need) source of fuel.
Opening the cupboards he found some cans of food. Curiosity striking him, the male took a can into his hand, inspecting it. The labeling of the contents and preparation instructions were marked on the side. Admittedly, the reploid had not prepared food in years. Consequently, he had little idea of how to go about doing so, even with instructions. Deterred from this endeavour, Siarnaq continued to look around for something a bit more simple. Finding the fridge unit, he opened it, finding some fruit and bottled water. ACCEPTABLE, he thought, taking some fruit out and placing it on a nearby table. Pulling a seat, he sat down, taking a good look at the food. How to go about eating this? He could just put it in his mouth, right?
Loosening his scarf, the reploid tilted his head down and put his hands begin his head to untie his cloth mask. With his mouth now uncovered, Siarnaq slowly brought a hand to the damages on his lower face, lacing his fingers along his ‘scars’. Feeling his own skin for just a moment, his hand stayed on his face as he returned his attention to the fruit. Picking up an apple with his other hand, he brought his other hand to it, spinning it round in his hands, before bringing it to his lips, hesitating, then biting down.
Chewing was something he slowly remembered how to do, and the texture and sweet flavour, was… In a word…refreshing? No, that wasn’t the word he was searching for. Still, with the only sound filling his auditory sensors being the sound of his own crunching, there wasn’t much else on his mind to reflect on. Consuming one, he took another, deducing for now that these four apples would most likely be enough for some energy restoration. He’d eat more at another time, if still needed, which it likely would. Making sure to collect the inedible parts in his free hand, a query appeared into his mind.
How long had it been since he had eaten last?
…He couldn’t remember.
Finishing his fourth apple, Siarnaq exhaled, standing up to place these stems in the trash unit. He then grabbed his mask, pulling it over the bottom part of his face and tying it taut yet again, then wrapped his scarf around once more. Touching over where his stomach was, it was then that the reploid realised…whatever hole he had always ignored had just been filled.
It felt strange. Siarnaq wasn’t sure he liked it or not, either.
In an attempt to shake off this feeling, he proceeded to continue his inspection of the apartment, going back to trying to recall when he had last eaten. It was inconceivable that he could not remember this fact. He squinted, disregarding it in order not to get hung up with disappointment in his own memory cortex.
Finding a cabinet with a few blankets and sheets, Siarnaq took one, deducing to himself that going back into a dormant state would continue to be wise in saving his energy. His logic was that the blanket would make it so his systems would not have to work so hard in keeping warm in order to digest the food. He had this well thought out.
Taking a glance at the bed provide, he paused, then turned, eyeing the sofa near the front of the apartment instead. It was plenty obvious to him that his partner Aeolus would need that bed to sleep later tonight, as humans needed more sturdy sleeping arrangements to rest properly. He, on the other hand, could do so almost anywhere, but… This seemed the most favourable option of resting locations. Walking up to it, he arranged the pillows and such to accommodate him. Sitting down, he opened the blanket in his hands out, tarping it over the sofa with him beneath, reclining his body to lay flat on the sofa.
With radio silence initiated, and the day still fairly early, he knew there would be a long time until he spoke with Aeolus again.
Shutting down all his secondary functions (albeit his stomach and auditory functions), Siarnaq’s consciousness ebbed away to the darkness of his mind.
"Siarnaq." Aeolus spoke up in quiet tones to the communicator, hoping the reploid would at least record what he had to say had he gone offline or something similar. He was still not entirely certain on how his partner exactly worked, not like he could ask without risking beheading.
Not that Siarnaq was entirely violent, just not on the stable spectrum.
"Update: our culprit could be Model W, but it's not confirmed. Atlas and I will scout the area where mechaniloid disappearances have been reported. If possible, prepare yourself for the worst. Over and out." He tried to say as briefly as possible before returning his attention to the rest of the occupants in the room. Just in case, he should let Atlas know where Siarnaq was...

















