Palms rise to the universe...

[awfulsentimetal]

Characters: The Spine and YOU... guest-starring Rabbit (Night)!
Setting: Floors 61, 5, and 28
Format: Action spam, but I'll switch to prose if you'd rather!
Summary: The Spine is dealing with recent events as best he can--as well as that creepy feeling that sleeping in his dormitory room may not be the wisest thing to do.
Warnings: Robots?

Floor Sixty-One

[A week or so ago, The Spine had been directed to this floor if he wished to see the sky. There certainly was a sky to see, but it was not the one he had hoped for. For one thing, there were far too many eyes. He stands just inside the door, brim of his fedora pushed up with a silver finger as he regards the clouds and mountains with evident suspicion.]

Floor Five

[As dangerous as exploring could be in the Tower, The Spine was restless, particularly after discovering that the sky he had been promised was as false as everything else in this place. It's beginning to get to him, this knowledge that nothing is real. Nothing, except the souls that he and his brother shouldn't by rights have. The souls that made death, real death, a possibility.

He finds his way to the viewing stations and stays there for a while, expression impassive as he stares at the ruin of his world.]

Floor Twenty-Eight: Day

[The Spine can be found standing near the back wall with a guitar in his hands, playing as he quietly sings one of two songs.]

Floor Twenty-Eight: Night

[Night time will find two automatons sitting close in the music room. Being surrounded by instruments is a great comfort, as is the presence of each to the other. They might not need to sleep, but wandering the hallways at night is dangerous--as is, The Spine feels certain, staying in their rooms where something lurks beneath their beds.

...It's a bit difficult to ignore the way some of the instruments occasionally play snippets of unsettling, unearthly tunes. No stasis time will be had this night for the silver automaton.]

{OOC Note: Tagging Floor Twenty-Eight: Night will get responses from both Rabbit and The Spine!}

Comments

[spaghettiinmysoul]

Rabbit was huddled close to The Spine. So soon after getting his sibling and things hadn't gotten any better, but worse. It bothered him. His death still bothered him, but it wasn't fear of Spine that got to him. No, he could never be afraid of The Spine.

It was this tower. And everything about it. He kept close to his brother at all times, idly playing random chords on the accordion. No stasis for him tonight either, it seemed. Far too unsettled now by the recent events in the tower to relax enough for that to happen.

[awfulsentimetal]

Rabbit's death still weighed heavily on The Spine, his optics frequently drifting to the copper automaton to reassure himself that, yes, those mismatched eyes of his were still glowing.

The idle notes from his accordion were less grating than they might have been under other circumstances, and The Spine eventually reached for the borrowed guitar leaning against the wall beside him. He played a slow, gentle melody, somewhere between a waltz and a lullaby.

"... How're you holdin' up, Rabbit?"

[spaghettiinmysoul]

Sometimes the notes would congeal into a melody. Sometimes. Most of the time though it was just a scale, or a few disjointed keys. Rabbit himself was staring off at an opposing wall, trying not to let the gravity of the situation wear down on him too much.

Spine spoke, and he leaned against him just a little more, holding a single note for a long moment before going silent.

"I'm fi-fine. I'm d-doin' fine..."

[awfulsentimetal]

That didn't sound fine, not at all, not that The Spine had truly expected anything different. Just over a week and they'd already been through so much here. Too much. It was all becoming too much. He wanted the peace of the H.O.W. back, a respite from monsters and malfunctions and death.

He set the guitar aside and wrapped an arm around his brother's crooked shoulders, uncertain whether it was for Rabbit's comfort or his own.

"... Good. That's good."

[spaghettiinmysoul]

Rabbit was really not fine, he couldn't have been less fine. He'd died, lost his body, lost his memory... He closed his optics, before slinging an arm around The Spine's shoulder and resting his head on him lightly. He would have given anything to be back at home right now, where it might not have been sane, but at least it was safe.

"... Miss the others. All of 'em." It was lonely. Not knowing anyone else here. He gave a steamy sigh, now picking up a mournful tune on his accordion.

[awfulsentimetal]

"Yeah. Me too. I'm even startin' to miss QWERTY, can you believe that?" That sombrero and mustard wielding A.I. was a frequent contender for the top slot on The Spine's Most Vexing Resident list, but he'd take mustard to the face over this place any day. He sighed, steam curling into the air as he leaned into Rabbit.

The tune felt entirely appropriate to the situation and The Spine wished dearly that it wasn't. Sad songs were for good days, when they didn't hit home quite so hard. "We'll get home. Even if I have to find one of the Administrators and shake'em."

[spaghettiinmysoul]

"I ca-can believe it." He spent so much time in the Hall of Wires, of course he'd miss the AI. Rabbit would miss someone like that too. "I mi-miss him too, Spine." He hummed something softly, curling against him.

"Ca-can we even fi-fi-find them?" Normally Rabbit was so optimistic, but it was hard to be so when so many things had happened at once. One hand moved to his neck, rubbing at the metal and wires there delicately.

[awfulsentimetal]

It was a good question. A darn good question. The Spine frowned, black lips becoming a thin, unhappy line. "... I dunno. But if one of'em ever shows their face me and them are gonna have a long talk." There was a touch more of that Clint Eastwood cowboy flavor in his voice, a sure sign that he wasn't at all pleased with the situation. The Spine gave Rabbit's shoulders a squeeze. "Hey, I have an idea. How about we talk about what we're gonna do when we get out of here? Might pass the time a little more pleasantly than sittin' and worryin'."

[spaghettiinmysoul]

That sounded like a good idea. Rabbit continued his sad tune, opening his optics again to stare at the opposing wall. "We-well if you find 'em, call me. I gotta few wo-words fer them as well." He paused to squeeze him for a moment, just to feel him close for a second, before letting go and allowing the music to play again.

"S-s-sure, Spine. ... First thing I'm go-gonna do when I get home... give everyone a hug. Then I'll wri-wri-write a letter to The Jon an'... see how he's doin'."

[awfulsentimetal]

The image that sprang into his headwiring was one that caused The Spine's lips to quirk. Rabbit would have quite a time hugging everyone in the manor--particularly the elusive Peter Walter VI. He made a mental note to help him hunt the boy down if they made it out of this place in one piece.

"That sounds like a fine plan. After you're done writin' that letter and we've got it sent off to Kazooland, we'll have ourselves the biggest ice cream parade yet. How does that sound?"

Messy. But it would be a mess he was willing to deal with.

[spaghettiinmysoul]

He'd hug everyone, including good old Six. Even if it took him forever and a day to find him. He'd appreciate the help in finding him though, it could be a group hug, he wouldn't say no to something like that.

Rabbit smiled faintly, reaching over to squeeze The Spine's hand gently in his own. "Y-yeah. The biggest one ye-ye-yet. We'll bring everyone with us, Ha-Hatchy an' the girls an' ol' Six. Everyone."

Rabbit didn't mind messes. He could take a big ice cream mess right about now, it would be better than sitting here feeling miserable.

[awfulsentimetal]

On that The Spine and Rabbit were in complete agreement, for once. Honestly he would have taken any kind of robut-related mess over this--over being here, over the memories he still couldn't quite bury away in his files, over the monsters and misery.

He was starting to think that maybe, just maybe this place would turn out to be worse than going missing in Vietnam.

"We'll get that old ice cream monster to march up front. It'll be sweet." ...Not an intentional pun, nor one that he appeared to be aware of. "And afterward we can have a sleepover with The Jon and tell stories."