001 ☪ awakening

[double_edged]

Oddly enough, he hadn't remembered falling asleep.

His reserves had still been at full capacity, the gentle pressing and steaming of the vents on his back pumping out waste, refreshing his systems and keeping him alert enough to trek along the exhibition. Though here he was, head bowed and eyes closed almost in meditation, metallic arm th-thumping against something dull and thick, with the other following.

Except that one wasn't metallic. And he felt something that was not native to Torren IV, or anything he could remember. The hand moves with urgency, patting the walls, pushing, nudging breaking.

Breaking? Yes. Yes, it was breaking. It just needed some more weight. More force, more energy, and--

CRACKLE!

He was out.

The metallic skeleton in his legs makes the weight reverberate a little more in the dreary, hollow room, echoing through its endless walls, but... he's out. His good ear flattens against his head, breath catching in his throat as he realizes - this is not Torren. This is not home. He might have just taken a step back, to the remains of where he had been--

A prison. Sarcophagus, by the looks of it, and what he remembered from Vullard lore about the technology of olden days. Devices used to kidnap and torture others, and he had just been someone's victim.

Who? Why? What planet was this, and why was he alone? Where were the Vullards?

Where was anything?

Comments

[last_lombax]

Ratchet had been out on one of his patrols earlier in the day and decided to catch some sleep in the sarcophagus room. Normally he'd do it outside but right now it just seemed the most quiet place. The outside still felt wet from the week's worth of rain and he was in no hurry to take a nap on wet grass. The loud tracking slowly raises him from his sleep and he looks around. His too groggy to really take in much detail. Was someone new here or did someone just come to bust up the sarcophagi?

"Hello?" He asked aloud as he slowly stood up and stretched his back.

[double_edged]

Hissing, creaking, rumbling - it was the sound of a creature, once organic, wandering the endless halls in search of daylight, hand of flesh and bone trailing the dirt-laden walls as goggled eyes searched his new environment. Part of it was curiosity, the other concern, slowly growing the more time passed, and the less living, intelligent organisms he was able to find.

Except one called out.

Even with just one ear to turn in the sound's direction, he registered it as someone's voice. Not a Vullard - too solid and unmechanical - but some form of Outsider. He stops in his tracks, listening out for the sound again, then spots something not too far from his location.

Fear leaving his... not-heart, the Vullard straightened himself up, lips curling into a smile as he shuffled forward, towards the small spark of life in a dead world.

[last_lombax]

Ratchet heard the hissing, the creaking, the rumbling and his ears perked. A robot? There was a robot here? Maybe it was from home?! He shot up and looked around, spotting the figure in the distance. He walked forward, though it wasn't long before his feet were moving even faster towards the figure. But one it came into clear view his feet stopped dead, his eyes widened and his face fell.

That was no robot. That was Alister Azimuth...or some sort of reminisce of him.

[double_edged]

The pumps in his back slowly hiss out as he stops. wondering why the other figure had stopped as well. And, for a moment, he could swear that the Outsider looked... afraid? Yes, he was afraid. But why? He was just a Vullard - they weren't that terrifying-looking, were they?

His pumps hiss again, a new puff of steam bellowing out, misting around them before it evaporated entirely. And it was then that he gestured around to the stranger, as if to indicate where they were.

Did he live here, or was he dragged into those tombs as well? Maybe he could tell him how to get back to Torren.

[last_lombax]

Ratchet didn't notice the steam or the gestures real meaning. It just soared right over his head like a Leviathan. Instead he slowly stepped closer, eyes moving across that still fleshy half of his face. It was him...it was Alister Azimuth.

"Alister...?"

[double_edged]

He shakily moved forward, lacking the grace and agility he'd been known for in his life, trying to clear the gap between them. He was more than a little curious about this stranger, and their surroundings, but even more curious with the way said stranger was looking him over.

And then the Outsider spoke - a single, familiar-yet-unfamiliar name coming from the other's lips. He jumps briefly, a flash of a memory appearing before his eyes, and then it's gone as soon as it came. He... knew that name, just not who it was or what it was tied to.

So he stops, and tips his head to the side, dislodging the steam from the tubes in his head and lifting the goggles over his eyes.

[last_lombax]

"Alister? ...Is that you?" Ratchet spoke again, his voice a little louder this time. He moved forward another step towards Alister. He blinked and looked him over again. It was just so...wrong. This was wrong in so many ways. Why was he like this? What happened? Did Nefarious do this? Was this a trick of the Castle? The Queen?

[double_edged]

There's a twitchy inhale from the former General, the pumps in his back pressing in, then exhausting out as the smaller Lombax was examined. Odd, how he had much of the same features as he did, but lacking the metallic attachments. Was this was he was supposed to look like? The Vullards mentioned him being ill those few months ago, but he never thought much of it.

And then the Outsider says that name again. He scratches his head in confusion, then shrugs a little to finally answer the question. He wasn't sure who or what this Alister was, but he'd certainly never seen someone like this kid before.

So he opens his chestplate, where his real, organic heart should have been, and there's something welded to the inside: b3V0c2lkZXI=. He points to the code, and then, to himself.

[last_lombax]

Ratchet watched his reactions, the scratch of the head, the shrug, and then the chest plate opening. The younger Lombax stared not at the serial number but at the workings inside. There wasn't organs there anymore, nothing organic anymore. He wasn't Alister anymore. His face dropped and all he could do was look at the serial number again and again. It didn't make any sense to him and made his stomach want to do flips.

[double_edged]

The reasoning for the other's horror was lost on him, though he understood enough that what he was showing was obviously unsettling him.

So he closes the chestplate, scratching at the good side of his head again, then slipping his organic fingers under the smaller Lombax's chin, pressing to try and tilt his head up slightly. It was a simple notion, a silent question asked in a quiet room.

'What's wrong?'

[last_lombax]

Ratchet didn't resist the cool touch. His head lifted easily and his eyes looked up at that half-organic, half-metal face. He swallowed and stared for a moment. He couldn't just not say anything. This Alister seemed to care about why he seemed sad.

"I...thought you were someone I once knew."

[double_edged]

Oh... so the little Outsider was missing a friend.

The Vullard carefully lowers himself to his knees, to better look his new companion in the face, but the hand curls around a furred cheek. He wants to offer some semblance of sympathy, if he couldn't quite pour his heart out, to make the little guy feel better somehow. And in some way, this Outsider did seem familiar.

"Hhhhhh..."

The voice is weary, raspy, gasped out of a throat that no longer worked, straining vocal cords long since irreparable. He's trying to console with words he cannot, and that small spark of cheeriness he once held was gone, for the moment.

[last_lombax]

Ratchet blinked at the android's motions and just stared. He was strangely gentle and comforting for being mostly made of metal. The older Alister would do something similar but never as affectionate. He could only swallow and search for his own words. He had a voice, he knew he did. The Lombax just wasn't sure where it went. He dug deep for it, finally finding it. When he spoke, it came out weak and small but audible.

"Ratchet. My name's Ratchet..."

[double_edged]

He repeated the lip motions, slow and mute, memorizing the name for himself for the day that he would be able to say it aloud. But he still nods, a gesture of understanding and leaning back to keep a new puff of steam away from the other Lombax.

Ratchet. Short, simple enough. And... he was supposed to be 'Alister'?

The Vullards never did tell him his true name. He never had been sure if he even had one to begin with. It was clear this little Outsider was somehow linked to him, and what might have happened to him, so he couldn't let him go just yet. That and they needed to find out where they were.

Again, he gestures around to the rest of the castle.

[last_lombax]

"You're in a castle. Not sure what it's called, or what the planet is, or even what galaxy we're in. You were brought here by the fountain. That's about all we know. We're trapped here." Ratchet kept his description short and to the point. He didn't want to overwhelm the other Lombax but he deserved to know everything. They were lost and trapped here.

[double_edged]

From the way he was brought in, it certainly wasn't a peaceful means of arrival.

Whatever was going on, whoever was in charge here, they did not hold the peaceful intentions all Vullards swore by code to. And it's the thought that others like this Outsider could have already been hurt here that starts making him a little furious. The Outsider, who's been so willing to help him despite apparently looking like a friend.

His eyes narrow, the goggles coming back over on his face as he stares the other down. Then, the robot hand comes up to fist against his chestplate - something to show that he wasn't afraid. If they had to fight their way out, they had to fight. It was as simple as that.

[last_lombax]

Ratchet stared up at the once General and for a moment he saw him. That determination in his eyes, that drive, that fearless gaze. The younger lombax could only stare up at the reconstructed elder in awe, much like the first time they met after all the explosions. He really was still him deep down; this was Alister Azimuth. Ratchet gave a not and mimicked the gesture.

"We'll do it together."