Am I really that Flawed?

“Hm?”

Attention shifted almost immediately downwards after the tug on his sleeve and green optics blink in confusion before he raises his glance to look at his younger brother. 

Face plates shifted into a softer expression and he offered what he hoped came across as an encouraging smile as not to chase off the other Walter automaton. 

He didn’t know that…

As he heard the sounds of paper crinkling as the folded up gift was retrieved, Blackjack’s gold body only quaked more, knees knocking, hands squeezing the brim of his hat tightly as he pulled it even farther down the fraction of his head that wasn’t currently inside of his shirt.

What would The Spine think of him? Bringing up that old secret between them, daring to try and…make light of the situation? The Spine didn’t want to be reminded of their shared plight; there was a reason they didn’t speak of it, and it wasn’t just because Blackjack didn’t speak to his brother much anyways.

Who did Blackjack think he was, bringing it up like this? Just so casually. ‘Oh, here you go, The Spine! Here’s a stupid drawing of that problem we both have! Hope you don’t get offended!’ What right did he have to do that? He was just…Blackjack. Just Blackjack - and Just Blackjack didn’t have any right to force The Spine to think about their conundrum like this. Nobody did.

So, effectively, he was ruining The Spine’s day. He’d obviously already ruined it by talking to him in the first place, but now he was just making it worse. Classic Blackjack.

The Spine was silent and Blackjack knew that meant he hated it. He was about to turn and leg it when The Spine blew out steam from his vents and mimicked a swallow, and Blackjack awaited the order to get his arse down to the Sixth to be scrapped, only…it never came. He flinched at the mention of his name, and his quaking continued as The Spine spoke, only to stop when he realised that his brother’s words weren’t…negative.

The…The best present he’s ever gotten…

That didn’t sound real. Were his audio receptors working correctly?

Slowly, Blackjack peeked out of his hat and looked to his brother, then his head slowly rose from his shirt and he removed his hat, looking down at it as he played with the brim. “I…Y-You’re welcome…I…find that a little hard to believe, though…I’m sure you’ve gotten better things…from fans. Or Malfunction. Or even…Rabbit…”

What was so special about a silly crayon drawing, anyways? So what if Blackjack had worked hard on it, right?

It felt good, if he were honest, to approach the situation they both shared. Therapeutic even. To have some sort of call back to their shared species dysphoria. The discomfort they both felt but never had the courage to discuss after what had happened the last time. 

“No..No this is truly..the greatest thing I could ever hope to be given.” He answered quietly, hand dropping to clutch at the corner of the picture once more. Of course he’d gotten many gifts over the years. From his siblings, from his fans and his partners; they had always been nice gifts, yes, but there was something truly special about the piece of artwork he held in his hands. 

He’d have to get it framed or--or something. Something to keep the paper from crumpling or tearing or smearing from his treatment towards the crayon lines. It’d be stashed away with his hoodie, where no one could possibly find it save for himself. Which was harder than it should have been in a Manor the size of their home but. He made do. 

Another bout of steam escaped him, trailing from his mouth this time and he mimicked another swallow before looking across the distance at his brother, the golden automaton peeking out at him.

me:

Here they are! Updated references for both of my Walter Worker Ocs!

“Hm?”

Attention shifted almost immediately downwards after the tug on his sleeve and green optics blink in confusion before he raises his glance to look at his younger brother. 

Face plates shifted into a softer expression and he offered what he hoped came across as an encouraging smile as not to chase off the other Walter automaton. 

Oh, he’d find out. As soon as he opened that envelope…

The Spine was going to be so angry. Why had Blackjack thought this was a good idea? Why would he think this was…an appropriate gift to give to his brother? The Spine would be offended. The Spine would be disgusted. The Spine would hate him; who did he think he was? Giving such a gift?

He’d march him right down to Peter.

Scratch that, he’d march him right down to The Engineer, who would no doubt do a messier and more painful job of taking Blackjack apart. Have his moment in the spotlight; finally have the Thes work together. The Engineer would love to take him apart, no doubt.

Blackjack wished he could believe The Spine’s words. He would deserve it, his brother raising a hand to him. Raising a hand to him like…like…someone had before. When had he been hit before? Who had hit him before? Someone had…Was it The Engineer? The Engineer had hit him before.

He must’ve been thinking of The Engineer.

“You’re probably…going to be mad…” Blackjack said under his shirt, still hiding beneath it and his hat. Honestly, who did Blackjack think he was?

The envelope was torn open and Blackjack mimicked a shaky inhale and quaked even more, hiding further within his body, wishing above all else that the ground would swallow him whole - or, in the very least, that he was over with Devo right now. Devo always kept him calm; Devo never got mad at him.

Inside the envelope, there was a folded up piece of paper. And if The Spine so chose to pick out this piece of paper and unfold it? Why, he would discover that Blackjack’s Christmas/Valentine’s Day/Groundhog Day/whatever holiday one might think of present was…a drawing.

No one was going to be marching anywhere. There’d be no dismantlement. No yelling. No anger. None of that. The Spine wouldn’t have it in him to respond to anyone that way, let alone Blackjack. 

“I won’t be mad Blackjack..” He assured quietly before removing the piece of folded up paper. Where he might have expected a letter or a card of some sort came a picture, drawn in crayon just as his princess crown had been crafted with. The pressure behind his photo-receptors returned and he stared, blankly, down at the paper unsure of where his emotions were running. He read the words, silver finger tracing over the scribbles in disbelief. You and Me. Me and You. Blackjack and The Spine. As..as humans. Humans. There was no silver coloring on his small figure in the picture. No lines marring his face. No spinal plates poking out the back. He traced over it all, taking care not to melt or smudge the wax. 

A plume of steam trailed out his mouth and he mimicked a swallow before realizing he should probably..say something, less his brother get the wrong idea. Take his silence for judgement.

“...Blackjack..this..this is..very special.” And it was. More than he could articulate into words at the moment. If the princess crown had warmed his core, this was. This was a million princess crown’s rolled into one. Eyes remained on the paper, as if frightened that glancing away would erase the image. Just. Poof.

“Hm?”

Attention shifted almost immediately downwards after the tug on his sleeve and green optics blink in confusion before he raises his glance to look at his younger brother. 

Face plates shifted into a softer expression and he offered what he hoped came across as an encouraging smile as not to chase off the other Walter automaton. 

Oh…he supposed that was true, yes. When you put it that way. Perhaps he should look into getting gifts for the Walter Workers, then, too. In the very least, for The Engineer. And Oscar. And Cherry. And Flynn. And Harper. And -

Blackjack’s body still quaked with nerves, even as The Spine removed the envelope from his grasp. Once his hand was free, it joined the other one in grabbing the brim of his hat, pulling the headgear down further over his eyes to cover them from watching his brother’s reaction. This was it.

Ohhhh, he didn’t know if he could do this…

Blackjack dared to peek out at The Spine’s question. Did he want him to open it now? Did he want to be here for this? The Spine could be so angry…so disappointed in him. He could throw it to the floor, stomp on it, laugh in Blackjack’s face! Could take Blackjack by the wrist, march him down to the Sixth and order him to be scrapped then and there. How dare Blackjack do this!

His brother was going to hate him…

But then, who was he to order his brother around? The Spine had authority over him; couldn’t tell him when to open it.

“I…It’s…up to you…” Blackjack replied, speech muffled by his shirt, what with the lower half of his head still hidden. “I…Just…” His nerves hit a new height and he shut his eyes once more and tried to shove his entire head down. “J-Just! P-Please, don’t be c-cross with me! I-I didn’t mean to make you mad! H-Honest! P-Please, don’t…hurt me…!”

The Spine didn’t quite understand what was causing such distress. What was so nerve wracking that Blackjack couldn’t even meet his eyes like this. Expression dipped into a frown as he continued to hold onto the envelope, his question not..not really getting a positive or negative answer. 

It was up to him.

He froze as his brother attempted to retreat further into himself and began stuttering and stammering, tripping over his words as he begged The Spine not to be mad. Not to..to hurt him--not to hurt him. The Spine would never..had never raised a hand to his sibling’s with a negative purpose. Had never sought to hurt them. Would never wish to hurt them.

“Blackjack...hey.” He took a step closer before pausing, not wishing to make the other automaton uncomfortable with sudden closeness. “I would never..ever hurt you. You know that right..? I’m not going to be angry. I’m not going to do anything to you. Alright?” 

His free hand hovered, wanting so desperately to step forward and try to comfort the golden bot but. It wasn’t his best skill. That was more of Rabbit’s territory. Zero even. Solitaire! Anyone else. Never mind the fact that the bridge between the two of them was shaky at best. The rift was still there and The Spine didn’t want to..to destroy what progress he’d made by stepping over a boundary. Even if his brother was breaking his figurative heart. 

“....” 

“Hm?”

Attention shifted almost immediately downwards after the tug on his sleeve and green optics blink in confusion before he raises his glance to look at his younger brother. 

Face plates shifted into a softer expression and he offered what he hoped came across as an encouraging smile as not to chase off the other Walter automaton. 

(Or unless a certain English Walter Worker grabbed a stepladder. Wink.)

Blackjack faltered, then just ducked his head lower. The Spine…thought it was a big deal that he made him a paper crown? Surely not. Surely, he was just…playing. It was just…a silly crown. One of Blackjack’s silly antics.

It really hadn’t…been hard. He liked arts and crafts, did drawings all the time. Been pretty easy to make a crown; making sure it was The Spine’s size was a bit more difficult, but he’d gotten hold of Rabbit’s old hat and had used that for size (after all, if Rabbit’s old trousers fit The Spine, why shouldn’t her hat?)

Blackjack’s presents usually weren’t as…personal as the one he had hidden in his pocket. Usually just grabbed stuffed animals or colourful sweets and left them around the manor for people to find. Never presented people with their presents, lest people be agitated that he was bothering them. Didn’t want to bother anybody. Presenting them with the odd candy cane for no reason? No problem; didn’t have to wait for their reaction. Actually stopping someone, giving them a present and having to see their reaction to their own special gift? Nope, couldn’t handle that; hiding them around the manor would do.

(Blackjack had indeed found his, but - seeing that it was from The Spine and fearing it would be some cruel prank or some sort of device to trap him so he could be scrapped or to kick him out of the manor - he hadn’t opened it. It was in his treasure room, along with all the SPG merchandise he’d taken over the years.)

“Oh, well…that’s a relief…” Blackjack nodded. So, now he had a reason to give this to The Spine? A reason not to chicken out?

Ouch.

Blackjack faked an inhale through his synthetic teeth, then he plunged a hand into his waistcoat, snatching the item from his shirt pocket and let his head sink into his shirt as one hand yanked the brim of his hat down over his eyes and his arm was once again thrust and The Spine’s gift was presented to him.

An…envelope. With pretty cursive writing on the front.

TO: The Spine. FROM: Blackjack.

The Spine gave a nod of confirmation. Of course. Valentine’s day went for everyone..whether they were a romantic couple or not. He knew a handful of the Walter Worker’s always gave out little gifts here and there to their coworkers. Like those little boxes of conversation hearts (the ones that supposedly tasted like chalk.) 

Green optics stared towards his brother as he rushed to grab the gift out of his shirt with just as much nervous urgency as he had with the Princess Crown. He watched as his head descended into it’s turtle-esque hiding technique before carefully reaching forward and taking the item from the other’s golden hold. 

An envelope?

His own silver digits traced along the writing before face plates shifted to allow the arch of an eyebrow. He hesitated, touch worrying at the edge of the object before ‘clearing’ his throat.

“Hm?”

Attention shifted almost immediately downwards after the tug on his sleeve and green optics blink in confusion before he raises his glance to look at his younger brother. 

Face plates shifted into a softer expression and he offered what he hoped came across as an encouraging smile as not to chase off the other Walter automaton. 

Oh…Gosh…He didn’t have to, if he didn’t want to…

Yes, his crown was in The Engineer’s possession now. He suspected it would either remain so or it would be back within his possession by the end of the week; if The Engineer hadn’t given it over to Oscar, no doubt Solitaire would be telling on him to the freckled male and Oscar would sort things out. Tell The Engineer to give it back, stop being a bully. Either way, Blackjack was sure this wasn’t to be the last time he saw that piece of royal headgear.

Blackjack nodded at The Spine’s promise that no harm would come to the crown. That was reassuring; he couldn’t imagine that anybody would want to take The Spine’s crown, though - or that they even could. The Engineer certainly couldn’t; The Spine was much too tall for him to snatch the crown from his head and run away with it, like he’d done with Blackjack’s crown.

Steam pumped out of the vent on the back of Blackjack’s neck as he turned bashful and sheepish. He looked down at his fingers, playing with them again as his nerves struck up again. “Oh, well…It’s no problem. It’s just…It’s no big deal. It’s just…paper and glue, isn’t it? Some crayon…” No big deal, not really…anything to pat Blackjack on the back for. He was just…a robot, who made a paper crown. Not really anything…massive…

The item in his pocket continued to feel heavy and he wiggled slightly, his head threatening to fall into his shirt again as his nerves starting hitting new levels. “I…Uh…I have…something else…” He faked another human gulp. “…It…occurred to me that I…never gave you your Christmas present…” (Well, of course he hadn’t; he’d been with Devo at Christmas, teaching him what Christmas even was.) “And, uh…well, I suppose it could count as a…Valentine’s present?”

His expression twisted. “Can family members…give each other Valentine’s Day gifts? Not sure. Maybe. Don’t know. Mine don’t. But…I don’t know. It’s the only holiday coming up that I can think of…”

(But, hey, there’s another holiday he’d have to teach Devo about…)

gcldandblxe:

Oh…Gosh…He didn’t have to, if he didn’t want to…

Yes, his crown was in The Engineer’s possession now. He suspected it would either remain so or it would be back within his possession by the end of the week; if The Engineer hadn’t given it over to Oscar, no doubt Solitaire would be telling on him to the freckled male and Oscar would sort things out. Tell The Engineer to give it back, stop being a bully. Either way, Blackjack was sure this wasn’t to be the last time he saw that piece of royal headgear.

Blackjack nodded at The Spine’s promise that no harm would come to the crown. That was reassuring; he couldn’t imagine that anybody would want to take The Spine’s crown, though - or that they even could. The Engineer certainly couldn’t; The Spine was much too tall for him to snatch the crown from his head and run away with it, like he’d done with Blackjack’s crown.

Steam pumped out of the vent on the back of Blackjack’s neck as he turned bashful and sheepish. He looked down at his fingers, playing with them again as his nerves struck up again. “Oh, well…It’s no problem. It’s just…It’s no big deal. It’s just…paper and glue, isn’t it? Some crayon…” No big deal, not really…anything to pat Blackjack on the back for. He was just…a robot, who made a paper crown. Not really anything…massive…

The item in his pocket continued to feel heavy and he wiggled slightly, his head threatening to fall into his shirt again as his nerves starting hitting new levels. “I…Uh…I have…something else…” He faked another human gulp. “…It…occurred to me that I…never gave you your Christmas present…” (Well, of course he hadn’t; he’d been with Devo at Christmas, teaching him what Christmas even was.) “And, uh…well, I suppose it could count as a…Valentine’s present?”

His expression twisted. “Can family members…give each other Valentine’s Day gifts? Not sure. Maybe. Don’t know. Mine don’t. But…I don’t know. It’s the only holiday coming up that I can think of…”

(But, hey, there’s another holiday he’d have to teach Devo about…)

Oh no. No one would be stealing his crown unless he knelt down low enough for someone to swipe it off his head or two someone’s stood on each other’s shoulders, like two children trying to don a trench coat and sneak into a movie.

“Well..I think it’s a big deal.” He answered softly whilst shifting his posture, taking a moment to adjust his knees before straightening back to his full height. The Spine had never been able to just sit and..make something out of paper and glue like that. He was far too busy for crafts..not that. Music wasn’t a craft itself. But. It was different! He’d never been the most creative of his siblings after all. 

“Something else?” The silver automaton echoed, pursing his lips before looking down at his brother curiously. Of course Blackjack hadn’t had to get him a present. His own gift deliveries hadn’t been on time this year, shockingly enough, The Spine caught up in assisting Peter with the Yulemas party and the bonuses and the remaining concerts. It’d been quite a busy time..he hadn’t seen much of Blackjack then. But he’d still dished out the gifts he’d bought to those they were for. Surely Blackjack had found his; it’d been addressed to him and only him. 

“Hm?”

Attention shifted almost immediately downwards after the tug on his sleeve and green optics blink in confusion before he raises his glance to look at his younger brother. 

Face plates shifted into a softer expression and he offered what he hoped came across as an encouraging smile as not to chase off the other Walter automaton. 

Well, yes, but…The Spine might’ve not wanted to wear this crown. Was probably a stupid crown.

Blackjack wasn’t certain if he was the only Walter automaton who would, for he liked to have faith in his siblings, but he hoped that it wasn’t a surprise that he did. As intimidated of his brother as he was, even afraid of him, he didn’t want him to be upset over not getting to be a princess. That would be an awful shame.

“As am I,” Blackjack chirped, smiling sweetly up at him. “Would be awfully embarrassing if I had presented you with the crown and it hated you. I would’ve had to throw it away for its dreadful opinions about my cool big brother.” He turned bashful as he realised his words, looking away sheepishly.

Oof. Couldn’t just…call The Spine that. Without warning or permission! Who did he think he was?

But, well…he didn’t think The Spine was a weak baby. The Spine was cool. The Spine was awesome.

The gold automaton faltered and looked back to him. Hm? Where was Princess Blackjack’s crown? Ah…

Blackjack looked down at his feet. “Oh. Well, I had one, when Upgrade and Rabbit declared me to be a princess like them. They said they were happy with me keeping it. But then The Engineer took it from my head, put it upon his own, declared himself king and ran off before any of our dear sisters could take it back. My guess is he’s either kept it, given it to Oscar or he’s still running around whilst they chase him for it.” There was a moment, then he smiled again. “It’s alright, though. So long as he’s happy with it.”

Blackjack played with his fingers once more, nerves once again settling upon him, and his smile dipped into a fearful pout as he looked down at his hands. The hidden object within his pocket - yet another item to present to The Spine - suddenly felt…heavy.

Not a stupid crown thank you very much. He’s planning on wearing it all day; and even after he’ll probably wear it when he needs a pick me up. All because of his thoughtful brother. 

He froze as Blackjack complimented him, photo-receptors glowing a bit brighter after being called cool. It was one thing to call himself such things on stage. To joke about how...cool and hip he was. But to actually hear it, unprompted, from the sibling most estranged from him? Certainly meant the world to him. 

Of course, bringing attention to it might embarrass Blackjack. Push the other away and..The Spine wouldn’t want that. So he simply ‘cleared’ his throat and tried not to sabotage the situation they were currently in before focusing on what else was being said. 

The Engineer had stolen Blackjack’s crown. Well..that was no good but..it certainly sounded like something the English male would do. Especially the whole ‘Declaring himself king and rushing off to do what he wanted’. That just..screamed The Engineer.  It wasn’t really..alright that it had just been taken. But bargaining with The Engineer usually didn’t end well for anyone. 

“Well..no one is getting their hands on this.” The Spine assured, pointing up at the crown resting on top of his own hat. Of course he miiiight go and show Rabbit for the sake of things but after that it’d be safe with himself in the Hall of Wires. He’d find a place to keep it out of harm’s way. Out of QWERTY’s way as well, less the AI try and snatch it with his clawed attachment. Even if someone got hold of it well! His name! Was right there! Who in the world would dare to take it? 

“Hm?”

Attention shifted almost immediately downwards after the tug on his sleeve and green optics blink in confusion before he raises his glance to look at his younger brother. 

Face plates shifted into a softer expression and he offered what he hoped came across as an encouraging smile as not to chase off the other Walter automaton. 

Ohhhh, God. It was stupid, wasn’t it? Really stupid. The Spine was probably holding back laughter right now. Wait for it, he’d burst into laughter any moment now. Any moment. Just wait.

Blackjack felt the crown disappear from his grasp as The Spine took it and his head turned to face him, but only so that it could sink into his shirt without banging his chin on his own shoulder. His arms were still locked in place in his fright, still awkwardly extended outwards, and his whole body only quaked more as he waited.

The Spine hated it, obviously. He was going to start laughing. Going to throw the stupid paper creation to the floor and stomp on it. Laugh in his face, just as The Engineer had the last time he had drawn his doppelganger (although The Engineer had later apologised for upsetting; judging by the fact Oscar had been with him, he could tell that the freckled male had made him do it, but Blackjack had still appreciated the sentiment and liked to think The Engineer had kept the drawing). Any moment now…

Except he didn’t.

The comment was given and Blackjack’s eyes opened under the brim of his hat, blinking in confusing, and he waited until he heard the rustling of paper and the question about how it looked before he allowed his head to ascend once more.

The Spine was…wearing it. And he was smiling!

Blackjack blinked his big blue eyes…and, despite himself, giggled, like a child amused by a parent’s antics. “Uh-huh!” He replied with a nod, then he played with his fingers and looked away shyly. “I just…wanted you to know that…I think you’re pretty enough to be a princess. It was rather cruel of Rabbit’s tiara to dub you not worthy. But this crown likes you all the same.”

There was a pause, then he looked up at him again. “…Though, I don’t mean to rub it in your face when I say that I asked Upgrade and Rabbit and they both said I was pretty enough to be decreed a princess. I’m not letting it get to my head, though, don’t worry…Still the same old Blackjack…”

Whether that was a good thing or not depended on if it was Blackjack or The Spine you were asking.

Well of course he was wearing it! One was supposed to wear crowns weren’t they? That’s what they were made for after all. The giggle extracted from his brother only served to widen the grin on his face. 

He listened as Blackjack explained his actions and ducked his head as another plume of steam escaped him. Bless Blackjack. Just. Bless him. Of all the Walter automatons he was probably the only one who would ever go to such lengths to make The Spine smile like this. 

“Thank you very much Blackjack. I’m glad this crown appreciates me.” Throughout all the years and all the skits performed on stage, Rabbit was always the one who received crowns. Fake or not. A crown of awesome for example, whilst The Spine remained a weak baby. 

He gave a thoughtful hum as the other told him the next bit, smile never fading or dipping. Out of all the Walter bots, Blackjack was probably the MOST deserving of being crowned. He’d try not to be too upset.

“Hm?”

Attention shifted almost immediately downwards after the tug on his sleeve and green optics blink in confusion before he raises his glance to look at his younger brother. 

Face plates shifted into a softer expression and he offered what he hoped came across as an encouraging smile as not to chase off the other Walter automaton. 

The rattling (rattling - no jingling or jangling here, thank you very much) of spurs increased as Blackjack went from toeing the floor to repeatedly hitting it with his heel, effectively banging the spiky boot trinkets against the tiles. Probably chipping the tile by accident, but he’d deal with that guilt later.

“It probably is…” Blackjack muttered, still so uncertain in himself and his gift. But, the thing was, The Spine seemed certain in it and in Blackjack, so…so he supposed he would have to present the gift. Couldn’t just back away now.

And so Blackjack closed his eyes tightly, tilted his head away and thrust his arms out, shoving the gift through the air and in The Spine’s direction.

A crown. It was a crown, constructed from paper and coloured in yellow crayon to try and make it look gold (the actual gold crayon hadn’t really looked that…gold. Blackjack had compared it to his body and found them to be very different.) There were gems drawn on in red, blue, purple and green and written in black crayon were words: PRINCESS THE SPINE.

Blackjack’s body shook lightly in fright, eyes still tightly shut and head still turned away, and so the paper crown rustled in the quaking robot’s hands. It wasn’t so much confidence that was keeping him from taking the gift back and running away, but more so that his limbs had locked up.

Lips dipped into a small frown as Blackjack’s nerves only seemed to worsen and The Spine opened his mouth to assure the other it probably isn’t stupid or dumb or whichever negative adjective he wanted to stick to the present. 

Surely it was a lovely thing. Whatever..it actually was. 

He blinked again as his brother looked away and shoved his arms outward, extending the surprise towards the older. 

Was that..? It was. Oh gosh. 

Silver digits twitched forward and The Spine carefully took hold of the paper crown, warmth spreading through his core. Blackjack had actually made him a princess crown after the concert’s joke. Of course he hadn’t been too torn up over the fact that neither sister would actually dub him a princess. (Maybe a little.) 

“Blackjack..this. This is very sweet! Thank you.” Oof. Why in the world was there pressure behind his optics? An exhale of steam worked it’s way out of his cheek vents before he shook his head. 

He took in the craftsmanship. Took in the coloring. Took in the drawn on jewels and gems that his brother had crafted just for his princess crown. Arms raised to set the paper over the top of his fedora and black lips twitched into a delighted smile once he was sure it was secure in it’s position. With that taken care of he extended his arms as if to show off an outfit.