#scratch becile

[ask-the-becile-boys]

[ID: A digital sketch in black and white. A screaming and crying snake (avatar of Muse) is coiled around a heart shaped cake that reads 'happy bye' on the top. The snake is surrounded by the Becile Bots. Dee is screaming back. The Jack says placatingly, "W-We'll always be with you! Kinda!" The Skull scowls while holding a forlorn looking Tatters. Hare winces and says, "Eeesh." Scratch makes an anime-style sweatdrop-and-closed eye expression. Riker grins smugly at the viewer and says, "I get a boyfriend in the next project." Locksmith's disembodied, X-eyed head lays on the table wearing a party hat. End ID]

@ghoulishjester suggested this as an end-of-blog celebration, and while I'm still looking for something to do IRL, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to do something really really stupid

#becile bots #steam powered giraffe #fanbots #blog art #bonus update #hare becile #the jack becile #the skull becile #dee becile #locksmith becile #riker szarka #scratch becile #tatters the taxidermy clockwork cat

[h0dgep0dgee]

steam powered giraffe mutuals! (and becile lore enthusiasts specifically) go listen to radium girls by rachel sumner!!!!

#listen maybe its just because of froggypond's oc eliza #maybe its because Toxic Green Stuff that was thought to be useful but ended up being misused terribly to cause Many Bad Things #maybe because of scratch from the becile bots au! #but anything related to the radium historically is associated w the beciles to me #also! i just have a weird morbid interest in the radium girls in general the story is So Fricked Up #reblog #steam powered giraffe #hodgepodge's ramblings

[littledraga]

Becile Birthday!

It’s @ask-the-becile-boys 11th birthday for the AU! Had to do something special for it! Not sure if this is it, but it’s what I did! It’s late, it’s only half edited, have fun with that. :p Thanks for keeping these funky dudes alive!

Maybe it was a little weird for Scratch to give Tatters a little scratch post a month after Christmas. It wasn't like her claws needed it, but no one said anything. And Tatters did like beating it up and napping on top of it.

When he got Locksmith mustache wax at the end of March everyone was confused. No one more than Locksmith himself. It was left with a card with a cake covered in candles. Odd? But who was he to turn down such a thoughtful gift?

Dee screamed when someone other than Hare knocked on her door. She threw open the door, intent on clawing at whoever was there. Instead of a person, there was a box with a bright bow. Inside were old records and a little bear with a loud sweater. Holding the teddy close, she looked around before slamming the door hard enough that some walls shook. Jazz filled the halls while she slowly danced around with her new little friend. It made the stifling heat as summer crept closer a little more pleasant.

Later, when summer was fully on them, Hare caught Scratch wrapping something in the lounge, struggling with tape that had gotten stuck on his shirt. Turning around this way and that, more and more tape unrolled and he huffed behind the respirator.

Hare huffed a small laugh as he walked over to take the tape before Scratch became a mummy.

"Whatcha got there?" He asked, trying to look over Scratch over his shoulder.

At first, Scratch tried to cover it with his body before his shoulders slumped. Sitting up, he offered a small wrapped box to Hare.

"I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I guess a day early won't hurt," he signed.

Taking the box, Hare tilted his head, looking at it carefully. "What is it?"

Scratch laughed enough his shoulders shook.

"It's a present. For your birthday." He paused and tilted his head a little.

"Power day? Turn on day?" He signed, not really sure what to call it.

Smoke billowed out of his cheeks.

"Wha? You remember sometin' like dat?" Looking at the wrapping paper, he scrunched his good eye.

"Uh, thanks?" He said before tentatively opening the small box. Inside were three small locks. More confused, he looked at Scratch.

He looked confused and tugged at his sleeves a moment before he explained.

'It's a lock picking kit. I know you've been practicing. So I thought you'd like some new locks." It may have made him a little uncomfortable, but he didn't think of Hare as a bad person. And he did seem to actually enjoy picking locks, just because.

Hare grinned, at least as much as his faceplate would allow.

"Thanks! 'Priciated." Hare shuffled a little from foot to foot, not sure what to do. Another quick thanks and he hurried off to put his new locks in his room.

It wasn't long after that that Scratch came up to Jack, looking nervous and holding a bag behind his back.

Jack was in the garden, watching the birds and twirling a blade of grass between his fingers, enjoying the freedom now that Riker had fixed his wires.

He noticed Scratch's shadow first. Turning around, he smiled warmly up at him and hopped to his feet.

"Good morning, Scratch! It's good to see you." He paused when he saw how nervous he was. "Are you alright?"

Scratch stalled a moment before quickly holding the bag out in front of him. Waiting for Jack to take it with a confused look, he finally explained.

"I wasn't sure what you would like. I hope it's okay?"

Blond curls bounced while Jack tilted his head.

"Oh? I'm sure whatever it is, it's lovely." Digging into the bag, Jack pulled out a short top hat and a new bow. They were older, and it showed, but still in good condition. His face split into a wide grin.

"Oh! These are lovely! Thank you, Scratch!" Holding them to his chest, he did look a bit confused.

"But I'm afraid I don't know the occasion? Surely it's not so late in the year it's Christmas again, is it? I haven't gotten you anything."

Scratch laughed, though mostly his shoulders just shook.

"It's to celebrate another year, Jack. From when you powered on first. A birthday," he signed, smiling as much as his limited face would allow.

"Oh my! I had completely forgotten about that! Thank you, Scratch! This is very sweet." Something for his first birthday since he was repaired.

"You're welcome! I need to wrap Skull's now. Take care!" Waving him off, Scratch hurried off back inside.

By now, the manor had caught on to what he was doing. So a few days later when Skull saw him from the corner of his eye while he was taking a rare moment to relax and knit, he put his needles down.

"Hey, Skull." Scratch lifted up another bag.

"Happy birthday. Or um wake up day? Or?" He still didn't know what to call it.

Skull watched him for a moment, pretending not to notice the bag in Scratch's hand.

"Birthday is fine." It was a human thing anyway.

"Thanks," he huffed. But before he could pick up the needles again, there was a bag in his lap. Looking up, he saw Scratch looking at him expectantly. Smoke curled from his neck as he sighed.

Looking inside the bag, he carefully pulled out skeins in various colours and a new set of needles.

"I know you have some yarn already, but I thought you might like having some new colours," he explained.

Skull's face softened. Or at least as much as his faceplate would allow.

"Thank you. They're good colours. And I did need some new knitting needles. I appreciate it." When Scratch beamed, he laughed. Just a single chuckle.

"You've been busy."

Which made the man beam more. Or as much as he could.

"Everyone deserves something good on their birthday. It's important!" He enthusiastically signed.

"We always had big parties when I was growing up."

Skull hummed at that. He wasn't sure he remembered any kind of birthday celebration. Even when Thaddeus was alive there were no celebrations at the manor. Frivolous things he would call them. But Thaddeus wasn't here anymore.

Things were quiet, for a little while. Then Scratch took to the kitchen at the end of July. He was cooking up a large batch of chicken and dumplings and sides. Something that had the robots peeking around the corner.

Hare spoke up first, walking over to look over Scratch’s shoulder as the man seasoned some chicken in a pan with what looked like dough in a bowl.

“This doesn’t look like a smoothie,” said Hare while he tried to figure out what was going on.

Scratch stopped long enough to quickly sign.

“Chicken and dumplings. It’s Riker’s birthday. So I thought I’d make him something while he was down in the workshop.”

Hare looked at Skull, who was still at the doorway. He just shrugged.

“Looks like a lot of work for someone that just eats ramen. When he eats,” huffed Hare, moving when Skull gave him a hard look. It wasn’t like it was his fault!

“It’s his birthday,” explained Scratch simply.

“Everyone needs to have something nice on their birthday.” And he was back to cooking away, leaving the two to look confused. It wasn’t like they had a lot of experience with birthdays.

After too long in the workshop, trying to keep the tools from getting too rusted to use, Riker nearly cried when he saw a banquet set out just for him. Scratch had to push him into a seat to get him to eat.

“Man, this is better than Ma's from when I was a kid.” Riker suddenly stopped, spoon halfway to his face to glance at Scratch who was looking rather proud of himself.

“Don’t ever tell her I said that.” As if anyone here would likely meet her, but a man couldn’t be too sure.

Scratched crossed his fingers over his chest before putting away the leftovers. At least Riker would be eating real food for a couple days.

A week later, Riker found himself cornered in the workshop by three robots. Even if they, probably, wouldn’t hurt him, it was still unnerving. Crossing his arms over his chest and a cigarette hanging off his lip, he watched them, waiting for some explanation as to why they were ganging up on him. Jack broke first.

“What do you do for birthdays?” He asked and stepped into the room, careful to give the workbench as wide a birth as he could.

He grinned a little, just a smidge. “It’s about Scratch’s turn, ain’t it?”

Hare huffed and followed Jack in.

“Yeah, and we wanna know what yer ‘sposed to do for a birthday.”

Riker just shrugged.

“Been a while. Mostly a lot of drinking, but I don’t think Scratch would be real interested in that,” he told them as he put out his cigarette.

“I’ve heard that people like surprise parties. Do you know about those?” inquired Jack innocently enough.

A brief memory and Riker shuddered. A surprise of people, never something he wanted. When the other three looked at him with concern, he quickly brushed them off.

“A surprise birthday party would mean keeping him out of the manor or at least part of it. Guess this place is plenty big enough. Normally they decorate the room, have cake and presents, and do stuff the birthday person likes,” he explained.

Tapping his chin, Skull thought that over for a moment. Smoke curled from his neck vents as he started to plan.

“Cake wouldn’t be a good idea. Scratch can’t eat it,” he reminded them.

When Hare shoved his hands into his pockets, pretending not to pout, Riker tried not to laugh.

“Probably a bad idea,” he agreed.

“But they have ice cream too. Could probably make him a shake?” he offered, leaning against one of the tables.

Skull looked up at that.

“There’s probably some kind of birthday milkshake. I’m sure I can find something.” With his mission decided, Skull made his way back upstairs.

“Well, that’s one thing settled,” huffed Hare, still looking sour.

“We could decorate the lounge?” offered Jack with a smile.

“We’ve seen movies. I bet we could do something spectacular!” When Hare perked up a little, Jack’s smile grew. Taking Hare’s arm, he gently tugged Hare away They had planning to do.

But at the door, Hare turned to look at Riker, pointing a gloved hand at him.

“We’ll get it planned, but you gotta keep him busy for a while, got it?”

Riker rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll tell him I need to check his leg or somethin’. Now get goin’. I need a drink.” he muttered as they all left. There was plenty to do.

It was hot when Scratch’s birthday came around, it was easy to get him down to the workshop for a look over. At least it was cooler in the basement levels.

“I haven’t been having any more trouble than normal,” he explained while Riker was looking the knee over. It may have been a cover, but it didn’t hurt to look while he had the chance.

“That’s good. Everythin’ looks fine. I just want to make sure I ain’t missin’ somethin’,” he explained. Eventually, Scratch got a clean bill of health. Or at least the machine part of him did. There was no way anything ‘living’ was going to be healthy here. But still, Riker kept looking. At least until he heard three bangs on the floor above him.

“Looks like you’re right as rain!” He sarcastically cheered as he backed up to let Scratch get to his feet as he put his tools away.

“Why don’t we head up and get something to drink? Should be something cold in the fridge.”

Scratch nodded and would wait for Riker.

“Wish I could eat popsicles,” he signed while they walked.

“Used to be the best part of summer.”

“Ya know, that does sound pretty good,” he agreed as they walked.

“But I can think of something better.” As Scratch looked to him for an answer, Riker stepped into the lounge and waited for him.

Inside was a messy banner that had ripped in three places when they tried to hang it up. A few messily wrapped boxes sat on the coffee table as well as two oversized shakes covered in tiny sprinkles.

Everyone, save Dee, who refused to come downstairs, was waiting for him. Jack was smiling brightly.

“Happy Birthday!” They all said at once, some with more enthusiasm than others.

Scratch stood still, looking at everything. His remaining eye teared up.

“Thank you,” he signed once, twice, and again, and again. There was static from the vent. It was hard to tell if it was laughter or a sob.

Skull stepped over with his gift, handing it to Scratch.

“You told us birthdays were important,” he reminded him as he pressed the wrapping paper into his hand. Inside was a box set to an anime Scratch had been talking about.

Scratch took his time with each gift, gushing with everyone. Even Locksmith was at least, mostly, agreeable for the party. He’d be up late with his new anime and shipping on yet another birthday cake shake. Best birthday.

#becile bots #spg #birthday

[chaotic-tired-bastard]

hi! I'm kinda curious on who the Becile Bots (Boys?) Are?? Sorry if I'm troubling you!

okay okay okay I am SO SORRY that I am getting to this so late! I've been sick and it sucks so I've been very low-energy, but I'm finally doing this! This is just going to be a general run down, no intense detail- sorry!

The Becile Bots/Boys are a very popular AU in the SPG (Steam Powered Giraffe) fandom. Their general idea is that Thadeus Becile made his own bots to mirror Peter Walter I's robots, and more lore and characters have been added as the years progressed and people came and went.

It started with three robots and their creator: Thadeus Becile as opposed to Peter Walter I, The Skull as opposed to The Spine, Hare as opposed to Rabbit, and The Jack as opposed to The Jon. The Becile Bots were similar to the Walter Bots but also like their "evil clones".

The Skull is the "straight man" like The Spine, but is very serious and no-joking.

Hare is very... coarse. Whereas Rabbit is very joky and fun, like the positive parts of a middle child, Hare has a dirty mouth, is generally terrifying, and is very angry most of the time.

The Jack was originally very shy and quiet, unlike The Jon's outgoingness. He then, due to being struck by lightning and other things, became insane in a way (I'm not exactly sure what it is) and was generally dangerous to be around.

After that, new people began to pop up.

Locksmith became a thing around the time Hatchworth did. They both have the hatch thing that leaks, but with Locksmith, he's manipulative and horrible instead of goofy like Hatchworth.

Riker Szarka (Formerly Riker Weed) was a thing from around the beginning, but was renamed from his almost-namesake Weed to Szarka to avoid any unneeded similarities to his source material. He's the Becile Bot's mechanic- he patches them up and fixes them in repayment for being able to live with them. From what I can tell he's virtually nothing like his source material (thank gods)

Dee is a possesed mannequin, a mirror version for either Delilah Morreo or Upgrade. Becile believed her to be Delilah and tried to gaslight her into believing the same, but it didn't work. I don't know when she appeared in material.

Scratch is a cyborg (I believe to be the Becile Mirror version of Zer0?) who lives with the Becile Bots. He used to work for Becile Industries, but was turned into an experiment and was turned into a cyborg. He appeared in material in 2017-18, I think.

Tatters is a clockwork cat that is a more recent development, being introduced a few years ago (I believe. I'm not good with time ;-;) She's literally a taxidermy cat that has to be rewound to be alive. I love her.

For more information, visit @ask-the-becile-boys or visit this link!

#answers from the pit #I am so sorry for the late reply anon ;^; #anyways WOE INFORMATION BE UPON YE #SPG #Steam Powered Giraffe #The Becile Bots #Becile Bots #Becile Boys #gods I hate single D Thadeus. I like ThaDDeus

[steambot-sparky]

My first major foray into a larger fanwork

Oh gosh I just got done reading all the becile boys comics and I am excited to see where this story goes! Also what a way to spend an afternoon! The characters and story were so compelling I couldn’t stop reading.

I think my favorite character is Scratch! They are such a good person and as an ASL student, I always love seeing ASL come up in media (and seeing if I can recognize the signs)

I think this series (along with most all SPG Mechanisms crossovers) is going to the top of my list for favorite SPG fanworks so far! :D

#steam powered giraffe #becile bots

[wiilbiiciide]

Wanted to draw something for Halloween and this is my wip!

So Hare as a pirate to be honest I drew the pose first and just thought it fit his sword is very much fake because he cannot be trusted with a real one.

Then we have The Jack as a spooky ghost which he tried to make a little friendlier with a smile drawn onto it but I think I might have accidentally drawn my new sleep paralysis demon.

Finally The Skull who I really struggled with what he might dress up and settled on Tetsuo Shima from Akira! I feel like Scratch would have shown the movie to him.

Characters belong to @ask-the-becile-boys and if you like spg or just good comics in general check them out

#halloween #becile bots #hare becile #jack becile #skull becile #steam powered giraffe

[raestaris-crimsontide]

So I made animal designs for the Beciles and the others, might do Chinadoll, idk

@ask-the-becile-boys

#beciles #dee #skullbecile #thadeusbecile #harebecile #jackbecile #riker #scratch #locksmithbecile

[duessa]

@ask-the-becile-boys ‘s Scratch, in the flesh!

Well, more or less..

#oc #becile bots #illustration #commission #digital art #artists on tumblr #cyborg #art #portrait

[ao3feed-spg]

Everyone Needs Something Special for Their Birthday

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/8vCHakV

by Waywocket

It's the 11th birthday for the Becile bot AU so I had to do something fun! Scratch tries to give everyone something good for their birthday. And in turn, they do their best.

Words: 2240, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Steam Powered Giraffe

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Scratch Becile, Skull Becile, Hare Becile, Jack Becile

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/8vCHakV

#ao3feed #spg #spgfic #spg fanfiction #steam powered giraffe

[amuseoffirebane]

[ID: Steam Powered Giraffe characters Buster and Vivian Becile in a ‘candy gore’ aesthetic/pastel color palette. On the left, Buster, a smirking young man with frosted tip hair, holds a Starbucks-knockoff coffee. His right eye is black with a glowing green pupil and is dripping black liquid. On the right, Vivian, a young woman with X’d out eyes and smeared lipstick, is smiling and scratching an undead, half-skeletal rat under its chin. Her eyes are dripping pink fluid. End ID.]

And finally, the Becile siblings Buster and Vivian! and that wraps up the set!

#my art #steam powered giraffe #steampoweredgiraffe #spg renaissance #becile industries #buster becile #vivian becile

[isempiterna]

𝑆𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑚 𝑃𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑓𝑒: 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐷𝑜𝑣𝑒

   The year was 1942. Peter Walter I sat in the sun room of Walter Manor, having finally been pried from the basement laboratory at the insistence of his son, Peter Walter II. This had been a common conflict ever since Peter II had grown old enough to realize that his father’s obsession with creating automatons, while a scientific miracle, had gone past the line of unhealthy. Peter I wasn’t keeping track, specifically—he no longer kept track of much, not the number of mechanical beings he created nor how he created them—but as he watched the dusky glow of sunset caress his pale hands, he mused that more often that not, his son would eventually leave in some manner of upset and Peter would remain hunched over one of the many worktables, half-formed mounds of metal and wires drawing him in until they filled his lungs and eyes and mind. Until he hardly felt like a man, himself.

   But this time he had been too tired to resist Peter II’s firm-yet-gentle reprimands. And so he found himself in the cavernous room above the ground, watching the sun take his place below the horizon. Peter I could hardly remember the warmth of sunlight. The beauty of it hurt his eyes, his tired, tired eyes. He knew tiredness, an old and intimate friend, and so it was that he knew that this was a different sort, that things were changing. Time continued passing as was time’s nature. He was dying. 

   Gaze now fixed on the lace-like tops of trees, to the burnished sky beyond, Peter I thought of death. And while briefly he lingered on the slow approach of his own, much like the gradual arrival of night in front of him, he was not afraid, for his death had never concerned him. No, in this hour of ponder with his hands motionless in his lap, away from the haven of his work room where he could armor his mind with metal and rewire it with sparking circuitry, he allowed himself to think, for the first time in years, of Delilah. Beautiful, clever, brilliant Delilah; oh, how he loved her still. As he had a million, no, countless times beyond that, he wished that he only loved her more than his desire to be loved in return. A breath escape him softly, stale and ghosting on memories. He’d forgotten how beautiful the world was, how graceful the trees, how captivating the skies, but he could never forget the beauty of Delilah Moreau.

   The pale figure that appeared at the edge of the slender woods stole whatever breath he might have drawn. It was as though she had been summoned directly from his mind, impossible as it was—although who was he to claim the impossible? But no, the woman standing just shy of the shadows was not entirely true to his memory. For one, Delilah had never been so pale in life; only in death, eyes closed, her hair fanning slightly on the pillow of the sickbed. And that was another difference, for the Delilah he was looking at had short hair, not the long waves of soft ebony he had so admired. And...while she was certainly how he remembered her, she was not how he should know her.

   Peter found himself at the window, somehow, tremors coursing through his old and weary body as his hand, calloused and wrinkled, fumbled with the latch. But she was still young, in her prime, strong and healthy and alive, not dead or dying. And yet as the window swung open, the slight glare of glass separating them removed and he saw her more clearly, there was something new to her. A quiet something, not noticeable like pale skin or hair that brushed her jaw but undeniably there. An undercurrent. A timelessness.

   “Delilah...” he wheezed, still not able to catch his breath. “Delilah?” He could not know if she heard him, only hope, but he hoped with a fierceness that had him believing it to be true. “Delilah, I...” Whatever he was going to say trailed off before he could even know what it was. She would not stay; he knew it like he knew that she really was Delilah who had died, been dead for years. Or, not so dead, it seemed. Whatever he said now would truly be the last thing he ever said to her.

   For a handful seconds hoarded into eternity the two simply looked at each other, her eyes so bright and clear they were almost glowing and his, dimmed and only fading further. He had lived his life, and she...she had found another. 

   And just like that, Peter suddenly knew there was nothing to say. True, he loved her still and would never stop loving her to his last breath, but this was not her life anymore. He did not know this Delilah, not for lack of wanting but simply for lack of time; even if she stayed, they could never return to their old relationship of colleagues, much less achieve a new one. He had a son, a family he had built with his own hands, years of memories without her. What Delilah had he did not know, but he didn’t want to give her the burden of an old man, a reminder of a past that was long since covered in dust and buried. This was not a reunion; this was a goodbye.

   So Peter smiled. He smiled bigger than he had ever smiled before, until it felt like it covered his whole face, until his eyes were almost closed so tightly that all the moisture was being squeezed out to trickle down the lines of his cheeks. He smiled with all the strength and determination and wonder that had lead him to his path in life, to discover and create new life in ways only dreamed of. He smiled like the rising sun, and she smiled back, small and peaceful and mysterious.

   And then she was gone before he could realize it, fading back into the secret darkness of the night. The light was but a lingering glow of an ember ready to sleep. And for the first time, he felt no sense of loss. For the first time in a long time, Peter I felt awake, clear of mind and inspired with the bubbling energy that drove him all those years ago. He felt invigorated. He needed to work. Not to distract or avoid or forget, but because his thoughts were crashing together and sparking and on the verge of exploding; they were buzzing and he needed to create. 

   Peter II’s voice floated from somewhere behind him, asking if everything was okay. The elder Walter turned from the window, strode across the room to his son to grip his shoulders with metal-toughened hands. He could still feel remains of the smile on his mouth, see the surprise in his son’s face, a spark of hope in his eyes.

   “I have an idea, Junior.” The nickname was old, from a time when Peter II still fell of his bike and dropped his ice cream, when Peter I had managed to rouse himself from his self-imposed prison to taste again the joys of life. It had not been used in many years. “And I want you to work with me.”

   The Mourning Dove was built with the original idea of being a new addition to the band once the others returned from the war. However, as the war struggled on, plans were changed and The Mourning Dove was modified to be a medical unit to be sent to join the war. Given a titanium alloy skeleton to help withstand the dangers of war (as well as hollow compartments in her legs and arms to store medical supplies, small gas canister chambers in her lower rib cage, and a variety of medical and mechanical tools in her hands and wrists) it was not long after she woke that she was sent across seas. It was the first and last that she ever saw her creator.

   The first time she and her siblings ever met was on the battlefield; along with the medical treatment files for humans, Peter I had also added a large file containing all the information she would need to help maintain her fellow automatons. Because she did not have the necessary additions to be a weapon she quickly grew closest to The Jon due to the medical support he would often assist in, though it was inevitable that they all grew to love each other simply because that was how their Pappy made them.

   When the war finally ended and the bots were returned home they were finally allowed the time to get to know each other in peace. Those were good years, if not perfect, touched with the sad passing of Judith and ever-shadowed by the loss of Peter I. But it was a shared loss, and the robot siblings pulled together to support each other, and they were surrounded by the loving members of Walter Manor.

   Five years later, that peace was shattered. Rabbit’s power core was stolen by the Walters’ competitor Becile, and with it The Mourning Dove. Although Rabbit’s core was eventually recovered at a terrible price, The Mourning Dove was never found, and it was assumed she was destroyed in the blast along with Peter II and Guy Hottie.

   In fact, The Mourning Dove survived, though she would remain in stasis in the space-time continuum for many years to come. With the rift still open she was trapped there, unable to settle fully in any world, and it wasn’t until it was closed by Peter VI that her existence was finally able to stabilize. Unfortunately, she would not be found until some years later by a particularly adventurous and not-quite-law-abiding mechanic.

   After being brought home by Lark, many weeks are spent laboriously fixing up the damaged bot. The various dings, dents, scuffs and scratches are easily dealt with, but the deep gouge in her lower back resulted in a partially severed spinal column which would require an entirely new replacement. Without that kind of money or material on hand, Lark had to settle for installing new oil and hydraulic lines, circuit cables, and fixing up as many little things as she could to make the eventual spine replacement easier. During this time The Mourning Dove was left in stasis, as she would only be shut down again for all the necessary repairs.

   Finally, however, Lark had done all that she could, and it was with great anticipation that she started up the Walter automaton. Once online, though, only more problems were discovered. At some point, or perhaps slowly over time, a total data scramble had occurred; some files were erased either partially or fully and many more were locked, and a small corruption in her processing hard-drive would short her out every time she tried to retrieve them. Essentially, The Mourning Dove was experiencing amnesia. When asked her name she could not remember, and it was only Lark’s introduction that prompted a vague feeling that it had something to do with birds as well. Immediately after that she was dubbed Sparrow.

   It was at this time that Lark’s previous decision began to waver—for while she had known that this was a Walter bot and should rightfully be brought back to her original home, the mechanic had been dreaming for so long of the wonders that were the robots that she couldn’t help but desire to keep her, just long enough to learn more about how she worked both as a machine and as a person with a unique soul. At first Lark had planned to fix her and befriend her before returning her home (and perhaps even acquire a job as a Walter mechanic), but with the new revelations she became unsure. A selfish part of her realized that with the lack of memories it would be all too easy to keep her for good, but Lark squashed it quickly, unsettled by the thought. And then there was the problem of the replacement spine; it would take Lark a good while of hard saving before she could fully repair the bot, but with the help of Walter Robotics it would be a cinch. 

   However, unbeknownst to either party, the trouble runs even deeper yet. In the casing that holds Sparrow’s Blue Matter core there is a small, hairline crack. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been a problem had she been recovered at the same as Rabbit’s core, but it’s been over 50 years since then, nearly all of which has been spent stuck in the limbo of the space-time continuum. This lead to a fundamental alteration in her Blue Matter linking to the space-time continuum, which eventually becomes a next-level can of worms.

   Due to the link, there is a constant trickle of unknown energy bleeding through the core. As more energy gathers and builds up it becomes unstable, and eventually a rift will open, pulling Sparrow and anyone too close to her into another part of the world, a different world entirely, and sometimes a completely different dimension. It has also affected her hard-drive, allowing her to occasionally receive random data from anywhere: the future, the past, information that should be impossible for anyone to access, or even data from other worlds. This technopathy is independent of her will and a rare occurrence; however, there is a possibility that she could induce it with extensive practice, willpower, and focus. Using it consciously would come at a steep price with dangerous side effects, though, such as increased susceptibility to unknown viruses (including real diseases translated into viruses), as well as creating back doors for anyone/thing that might attempt to breach her system. Consciously inducing it also raises the traceability, whereas when it’s random it’s nigh untrackable.

#✡𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆 : 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒑𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒇𝒆✡ prelude to a dream. #☾𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤 : 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑡☽ the lockless door. #((alright first of all I would just like everyone to know that I am EQUALLY horrified by how many details I am cramming into this au #BUT I'M SO FUCKING INVESTED PLEASE I NEED MY STEAM POWERED GIRAFFE CONTENT #WHERE Y'ALL AT I'M THIRSTIN?????????))

[ask-the-becile-boys]

Epilogue, Part 1 of 2

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[ID: Nineteen digitally sketched panels in black and white. Some panels do not have anti-aliasing, making the lines more pixelated.]

[Panel 1: White text on black background reading, "Call connecting (ellipses)"]

[Panel 2: View from a webcam of Scratch adjusting its angle, with SFX: -fidget-. Scratch has different prosthetics now, including a more robust left arm, a proper left eye, a nose and mouth, and a neck vent with a circular mark on it. He is smiling and looks less tired than before At the bottom of the screen is a name plate like the ones present in video chat programs, reading 'Royce Ellis (he/him).' He wears a Walter Robotics t-shirt reading 'WR']

[Panel 3: No anti-aliasing. A shot of the top of a picnic table. At the bottom of the screen the name plate reads "Riker Szarka (he/him)." Riker says from off panel, "(em-dash) oh! It came through! Can you hear us, Scratch?"]

[Panel 4: Panel is split diagonally. In the top left, Scratch smiles and says out loud, "Video's a little grainy, but I can hear you!" In the bottom right, Riker, in pixelated lines with name plate, says, "Eh, best we can do with rest stop Wi-Fi."]

[Panel 5: Scratch narrates in white text outlined in black: "It's been a few months since the Beciles left town." Scratch in the present sits at his computer desk, hands folded over his stomach. We can see that he now also has a robust prosthetic right lower leg. He says, "I guess that means you finished your contract in Chicago?" Narration continues at the bottom: "They like to check in every other week or so."]

[Panel 6: Riker sits at the picnic table, looking into his phone in his hands. Dee is barely visible sitting on his far side from the viewer. The Skull stands at the end of the table looking at a map. Narration from Scratch says, "Riker's working a little, when he can." Riker says,"Yeah. We would've stayed longer, but we weren't makings ends meet. I got something lined up near Baltimore, though."]

[Panel 7: No anti-aliasing as Riker turns his phone to point at The Skull, who continues looking at the map (labeled 'Map'). Riker's name plate is present. Riker says from off panel, "We're gonna detour toward the Appalachias. The Skull wants to try and jog his memories like Hare and Jack." Scratch asks from off panel, "Is anyone else up?" The Jack says from off panel, "We're all here!"]

[Panel 8: Narration from Scratch: "The Jack gets more confident every time they call." Hare yawns (SFX: all caps -yawn-). No anti-aliasing, Riker's name plate present. The Jack sits smiling, wearing a T-shirt that reads 'cubs' in all caps. Hare has an eye patch riveted over his missing right eye. The Jack says, "Hare and I are just awake for the call. It's The Skull's turn to ride up front."]

[Panel 9: No anti-aliasing, Riker's name plate present. The Skull finally looks up and says, "Plan is for me to drive once we're off the highway. The straight roads through the cornfields are good for practice." Hare smirks and says, "Lord knows you need it, leadfoot. How's that impossible metal stuff treating you, Scratch?"]

[Panel 10: Scratch smiles brightly and says, "It's light! I feel a lot better without so much weight to carry around." The Jack asks from off panel, "Did Mr. Walter retune your elec (ellpises) electro (ellipses)" Scratch says, "Electrolarynx. Yeah! I still mostly sign in person, but it's handy for video calls like this or for phoning in to work."]

[Panel 11: No anti-aliasing. The Skull lowers his brows sternly. Narration from Scratch: "The Skull still worries a lot, but he seems more at ease with himself." The Skull asks, "He's not tying your upgrades to your work, is he? No holding back on maintenance if you don't behave?"]

[Panel 12: Shot of Scratch's new left arm gesturing calmly. He says, "Not at all. Everything is covered by Walter Robotics. We're even discussing a slight pay raise now that I'm past probation!"]

[Panel 13: No anti-aliasing, Riker's name plate present. Narration from Scratch: "Hare has matured… just a little." The Jack says excitedly, "That's great!" Hare grins and says, "If only we'd known remote work was so flush when you lived with us!" Scratch says from off panel, "Well, selling Becile Industries' secrets was a good foot in the door."]

[Panel 14: No anti-aliasing, Riker's name plate present. Dee sits, looking at an e-Reader. Tatters sits on the table top by her hands, wearing a cat harness and leash. Hare says from off panel, "Psst, Dee. Say hello." Dee says flatly, "Hello." Scratch's narration: "Dee is still adjusting. But they're giving her time."]

[Panel 15: Same shot. Tatters looks over at something, her ears and whiskers perking up. Hare says from off panel, "We can't pull her away from that e-reader thingy you sent her. Once she got those library cards on it, it was all over."]

[Panel 16: No anti-aliasing, Riker's name plate present. Hare folds his arms on the table and looks to the side, asking, "(ellipses) Say, uhh. Did Rabbit get my last postcard?"]

[Panel 17: Profile shot of Scratch, looking relaxed. Narration reads: "For all that Locksmith tried to destroy us (ellipses)" Scratch says in the present, "She did. The 'bots were asking after you guys, actually. Could you send me a group photo to show them?"]

[Panel 18: Narration: "I think being forced to let go helped us in the end." No anti-aliasing, Riker's name plate present. Riker looks down at the camera and says, "I should be able to screenshot something here (ellipses) Huddle up, guys!"]

[Panel 19: Tall panel. Narration: "Things might not be easy. Change still hurts. But the shadows are just a little bit lighter." Riker holds up his phone at arms length in front of him, back to the table. Dee looks over; The Skull leans in, slightly smiling; Hare and The Jack stand to get into frame, both grinning, Jack flashing a peace sign. Tatters looks mischievous off to the side. The narration finishes: "And the Becile Bots are doing just fine." End ID]

#becile bots #steam powered giraffe #fanbots #blog art #epilogue #story update #hare becile #the jack becile #the skull becile #dee becile #scratch becile #riker szarka #tatters the taxidermy clockwork cat

[cabbagiez]

“Extremely detailed character sheet template”

Character Chart 

Character’s full name: Donovan Keegan Soule (He no longer remembers this) Reason or meaning of name: Donovan means dark- which his hair (and eyes) are/once were, keegan means firey (which he decidedly is), and soule is, well, meant to represent his connection to death. Character’s nickname: Don, formally Project Siren Reason for nickname: Don is easier to say than Donovan- he likely adopted it after the children he’s raised began using it, and Project Siren is the name of the experiment he took part in unwillingly. Birth date: Unknown, some time in the 30s Physical appearance Age: In his late 80s How old does he/she appear: Around 21-22 Weight: Unknown- rather high Height: Unknown, at least 6′0 Body build: Bulky Shape of face: Rather narrow Eye color: Green, with black schelra Glasses or contacts: Sunglasses Skin tone: Porcelain white- formerly quite tan Distinguishing marks: Cracks that glow green and cover the majority of his skin, various scars, a summoning symbol in the middle of his chest covered by a tattoo of the night sky Predominant features: His height, muscles, and scars  Hair color: Black, with green streaks- they are not dyed, and do not fade Type of hair: thin, straight Hairstyle: Spiked up- either naturally or gelled Voice: Deep, with a hypnotic quality to it, somewhat like a siren’s Overall attractiveness: Fairly high Physical disabilities: None that he is aware of Usual fashion of dress: Casual, with a bit of a rebellious edge Favorite outfit: Ripped jeans, a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket, with sunglasses of course.  Jewelry or accessories: Earrings every so often, sometimes necklaces. He doesn’t have many of these  Personality Good personality traits: Sense of humor, comforting and understanding- generally quite nice as long as you are nice to him Bad personality traits: Quick to anger, often sarcastic when it’s not the right time, overreacts often, often doesn’t change his behavior unless told multiple times to do so Mood character is most often in: Happiness, or mild irritation Sense of humor: Dark and sarcastic, even in the worst times Character’s greatest joy in life: Spending time with his friends and “family,” leaving the house Character’s greatest fear: Being weak again, being unable to help if one of his friends is in mortal danger Why? Both of these happened in his life- the Project Siren experiments traumatized him deeply, and during that time one of the few people he knew that cared for him like a human died due to events out of his control- but both of them were aware of What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? It technically already happened- Him being hired by Becile Industries- and all of his memories of his past before then being completely wiped as he was forced into an experiment. Character is most at ease when: He is away from his workplace, and with friends Most ill at ease when: He is at his workplace, and is forced to confront his boss’s father Enraged when: His friends are put in danger- especially if by those he already hates Depressed or sad when: He is completely alone, or otherwise disconnected from others- along with when he is physically weak Priorities: His friends, his “family,” his boss, himself Life philosophy: It’s all going to hell anyway, why not have a bit of fun? If granted one wish, it would be: For all of his memories of his past to be returned. Why? Even if all of his family is gone- he wants to remember who he knew, before he worked for Becile Industries. He doesn’t want to feel like he is a lone entity Character’s soft spot: His friends, robots, and children Is this soft spot obvious to others? Definitely Greatest strength: His physical strength, and his voice Greatest vulnerability or weakness: He hates being called “weak,” and most magic can actively take him down easily Biggest regret: Not trying harder to stop Gary- even if it was out of his control. Minor regret: Not getting ice cream last week. He doesn’t regret all that much Biggest accomplishment: Recovering after all those experiments Minor accomplishment: Actually surviving growing wings without screaming. Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: When he somehow managed to get his head stuck in a beaker- no one knows how he did it. Why? It’s just plain weird. Character’s darkest secret: He has murdered several people- enough to make him wanted, had it not been covered up. Either against his will or by choice- he hasn’t told that part. Does anyone else know? Only Phobus, and Ignatius and Buster Becile Goals Drives and motivations: Survival, and his “family” and friends Immediate goals: Survive the next day Long term goals: Be a decent employee, help his friends make a better life How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Work as hard as he can, and try to be a better person How other characters will be affected: Hopefully for the better! Past Hometown: He doesn’t recall- but likely a town near San Diego Type of childhood: A good one, despite him growing up during the Great Depression. Pets: Any animals he found in the wilderness First memory: He doesn’t recall it anymore, but his first memory was of his mother singing to him, then laughing as he just covered her mouth suddenly Most important childhood memory: He doesn’t know- probably something with his family, but he has no recollection. Why: No reason, on account of the absence of a memory. Childhood hero: He doesn’t recall Dream job: A science position- which he technically got Education: Only the mandatory schooling- kindergarten to twelfth grade Religion: None Finances: Poor, to say the least Present Current location: San Diego, California Currently living with: His boss, and what few employees are left, his former boss, and his best friend Phobus Pets: None Religion: None Occupation: Becile Worker Finances: Fairly well off- his employer takes care of all his expenses Family Mother: He can’t remember Relationship with her: He hopes it was good- but his “disappearance” probably made it strained Father: He can’t remember Relationship with him: He hopes it was good as well, but something tells him it would have become strained even if he hadn’t “vanished” Siblings: He can’t remember Relationship with them: Once again, he hopes it was good Spouse: None Relationship with him/her: n/a Children: Only one, he doesn’t know their name Relationship with them: Estranged, considering he never knew them Other important family members: None Favorites Color: Green, ironically Least favorite color: He doesn’t have one Music: Anything that Ignatius doesn’t like. So mostly heavy metal Food: Anything that isn’t the regulation meals provided by Becile Industries Literature: Anything that aren’t the regulation reading materials provided by Becile Industries. Form of entertainment: Books, and movies, and the radio Expressions: somewhat outdated ones usually- he has a tendancy to say “oh geez” multiple times as well Mode of transportation: On foot, flying, or in a car Most prized possession: Anything given to him by Gary, and any remnant of his old life that he still has. Habits Hobbies: Reading, spending time on the internet, avoiding his work Plays a musical instrument? No Plays a sport? No How he/she would spend a rainy day: Reading, going out in it, spending time with his friends Spending habits: He usually spends faaar too much on his friends- otherwise they’re fairly alright Smokes: Only sometimes- he has mostly quit Drinks: Often, socially. Other drugs: None What does he/she do too much of? Avoiding work, avoiding his own needs to care for others What does he/she do too little of? Paying attention to his own needs, self-care Extremely skilled at: Science, engineering, getting out of tough situations Extremely unskilled at: Not getting hurt, cooking, keeping out of tough situations Nervous tics: Rubbing his neck, picking at his skin, running his hands through his hair Usual body posture: Stiff and straight, or periodically slumped over a desk Mannerisms: Rubbing at his skin, scratching his neck Peculiarities: Rocking back and fourth Traits Optimist or pessimist? Introvert or extrovert? Daredevil or cautious? Logical or emotional? Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Prefers working or relaxing? Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Animal lover? Yes Self-perception How he/she feels about himself/herself: He likes himself a lot- aside from his perceived “weakness” during the experiments One word the character would use to describe self: Strong One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: “I guess I’m strong. A man of character- Fabulously gay, and a good person all in all... Wait, how long’s a paragraph again?” What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? His bravery What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? How indecisive he can be What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? His strength What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? his skin How does the character think others perceive him/her: as a good person- hopefully, at least. What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: Some of his appearence, and what he thinks is his “weakness” Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: Good, until they prove themselves otherwise Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Not often Person character most hates: Ignatius Becile Best friend(s): Phobus, Asmah, and Zoe Love interest(s): Phobus, though it’s only a crush Person character goes to for advice: Phobus, and Asmah Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Asmah, Zoe, Buster and Vivian Becile Person character feels shy or awkward around: No one Person character openly admires: Phobus Person character secretly admires: Phobus Most important person in character’s life before story starts: Phobus After story starts: Phobus (still) and Zoe

#Experimental Rage: Donovan #god that took forever #it was fun though

[littledraga]

@ask-the-becile-boys I did something with it! They’re in dire straights at Becile Manor but Skull’s got an idea on how to deal with it. If only he had ear plugs! (Scratch doesn’t seem to mind the noise though.)

They were low on funds, and even lower on parts to work with for repairs. They were used to barely getting by, but they were now one accident away from not being able to be repaired again. Skull couldn’t let that happen. Not if he could do something about it at least.

And he just might be able to. Or he hoped, for what good hope would do him. That chatterbox was willing to help before, he might get them to help again. They had said that the workers didn’t really take stock, who would notice some parts missing?

When he thought everyone was busy, Skull donned his jacket and hat to make his way across town. Only, knocking on a nearby wall got his attention. How Scratch called out without using what voice he had left.

He lowered his brows and waggled a finger by his head before pointing away with both hands then signed an S, pressing it to his chin like he was in thought. “Where are you going, Skull?”

Wrapping one hand around the other, he lifted it. “Out,” he explained before trying to leave. Another knock. Scratch was obviously concerned. He didn’t have to look to know he was signing to try and ask again. 

Scratch put his thumb under his chin before moving both hands across his body to make fists. “It’s not safe.”

Without parts, they had been staying in, but they had to leave to get parts. They couldn’t just sit there and rot.

A heavy sigh and smoke curled around his face from his neck vents. He really didn’t want to talk about this, but he didn’t want Scratch to worry either. “I know a place where I might be able to get some parts. They helped me out before, I  might be able to get them to again. Just enough to get us working.”

Scratch looked worried, Skull wasn’t known for making the best friends. Useful, sure, but not the best people, but then again, he supposed Skull wasn’t either, but he had always been good to him. He pointed at himself before placing a fist on his palm and seemed to offer it to Skull. “Can I help?” At least if he was there, someone would be there to help him, or at least make him be careful.

The Skull stood still a moment. He wasn’t sure he wanted to put Scratch through Bip’s questions. But having someone else there might be helpful if nothing else another eye to find good parts and carry some home. Not much, of course, he knew the man was in a lot of pain. “Fine,” he said eventually. “But stay close and put on a hoodie at least.”

 A quick nod and Scratch was off to grab his stuff. California was a little warm for hoodies and jackets, but he had a light one just for such occasions. A light red one to try and help with the heat, and enough colour to block out his face with the hood up. 

Not wanting any more followers, Skull waited outside. So long as no one noticed them, things would be fine.

 If Bip didn’t want to help, at least he wouldn’t have to feel bad roughing them up a little. They’d be fine. So either way, they’d get their parts. 

Once Scratch stepped out, he started walking, no point in waiting too long. 

It was already late when they left, and after nightfall before they reached the scrapyard. Which worried Scratch. Looking at Skull, he put two fingers by his elbow and quickly ran them up to his lifted wrist. “Are we stealing?” He didn’t want to do that. But if they needed parts.

Skull shook his head and tapped his fore and middle fingers on his thumb. “Someone lives here. Going to try and get their help.” Walking up to the fence, he paused. It wasn’t like there was a front door to knock on. Well, he could try the front fence and see if they were there. 

By the time the duo made it around, the fence was left wide open, only there was no one there. “Weird.” Out of instinct, Skull reached into his jacket for his gun. Keeping Scratch behind him, he slowly made his way inside. He remembered them talking about the green skinned men.

The storage room they used was open. Waving for Scratch to hang back, he peered into the room to see Bip sitting on the futon, tapping away at their phone. His shoulders slumped, and he relaxed. Or at least as much as he’d let himself here. “Saw us coming, I take it?”

Bip grinned widely and looked up, tucking away their phone. “Yep! Well, Spider did and had a fit. Figured it would be easier to open the door for you so the alarm wouldn’t go off.” Looking him up and down, their head tilted slightly. “You’re in better shape this time!” They chirped. 

A long plume of smoke. “Yeah, had someone at home to fix me up.”

“Oh! Like Takoda! When I can’t do it myself, he helps me. He’s really nice,” they beamed. “I‘m glad you got home safe!” They chirped.

Before they could lay into him with more questions, he raised a hand. “Thanks, kid. But I’m afraid I’m here for another favour.”

They tilted their head the other way at that. Skull didn’t seem like the type. But they nodded a little. “I don’t know what I can do, but I can try?” They offered.

“Really, we just need you to turn a blind eye for a little while,” he explained. “We need parts.” 

“We? The person that fixed you up?”

A long sigh. It was hard to keep things short with the kid. “Kinda.” Turning his head, he called out. “Scratch, come in here, will ya?”

Seeing Scratch step into the room, Bip’s eyes lit up. They were a person and a robot! That something they didn’t know could even be a thing!

Jumping up, they hurried over and leaned up on their toes to get a closer look at his face. “Hi! I didn’t know a person could be a robot. Or are you a robot that’s a person? Are you going to be all person or all robot? Is it a lot of work? Does it feel weird?”

Babbling away, Bip was too engrossed in their million questions to notice how uncomfortable Scratch was getting and how he started to recoil at the barrage.

Skull did notice. The patchwork bot was as excitable as last time. How anyone could talk that much was beyond him. Even Hare wasn’t that chatty. At least they weren’t malicious. Just annoying. Stepping up behind them, Skull put a hand over their mouth, and the other pressed down on Bip’s shoulder to try and keep them still. “Slow down, kid. You’re too fast for Scratch. Besides, that ain’t none of your business,” he reminded them.

Bip’s shoulders slumped. “Sorry,” they tried to mumble from behind Skull’s hand. He hadn’t let them go yet.

With a chance to breathe, Scratch relaxed. A little. He still needed a moment.

Opening his hand, Scratched tapped his thumb against his chest. “It’s okay,” he signed to Skull, trying to look at least a little chipper with what was left of his face.

Skull huffed when Bip started to excitedly wiggle again in his grip. They were asking questions again, not that anyone could understand them with his hand over their mouth. Of course, the kid would need a translator. This was going to be a long night.

Scratch’s shoulders shook. Figures he’d find it funny, thought Skull while he kept a hand tightly clamped over Bip’s mouth, trying to get them to calm down. Once the wiggling died down, he slowly let go.

“Do you need special parts for being part person? Or something for your voice box? I know there’s some old radios that came in today. Would something like work? Or is it your mouth that doesn’t work? It looks okay, but I-”

And Skull put the hand back over their mouth. “Kid, be quiet. Please.” More mumbling, and he huffed. Which finally made them stop. “Thank you.”

This time when he moved his hands away, Bip stayed silent. They looked between the two, waiting for an explanation. It looked like it took all of their willpower to keep their mouth shut.

Something Skull didn’t take for granted. And was quick to fill the silence to keep them from talking again. As much as he hated it.

“We don’t have what we need to keep us all running. There’s a few of us. We can’t afford what we need, and without it, we can’t work, got it?”

A sharp nod. “You guys need to take stuff from the yard without the humans finding out, right?” They asked, and beamed when Scratch nodded and signed the affirmative. They mimicked him. “That means yes, right? Like nodding your head.” When he did it again, they cheered.

At least Scratch seemed to be able to deal with them, if anything he was amused by the chatterbox, but he was better with people than Skull. 

“Yeah. Was hopin’ you’d turn a blind eye and let us get some spare parts.”

Another nod. “Sure! Come on, I’ll help you look!” Picking up their friend, Bip grabbed Skull’s sleeve and tugged him along.

Skull stumbled a little as he was dragged along. Behind him, he could hear the electronic breaths from Scratch as he laughed. With a long sigh of smoke, Skull followed Bip into the yard. Not what he wanted, but he supposed the extra help would be good. Surely, they knew the yard better than anyone else.

And he was right! Bip knew every inch of the yard. They even knew how to find certain parts. “New cars cut down on a lot of things, but the older ones are great for parts. Joshua says it’s cuz they were built to last.” They pulled out some of the inner workings. “But they all still end up here in the end.”

While the lot of them were digging around, Scratch kept watching Spider on Bip’s shoulder. Eventually, he tapped Bip’s other shoulder. Putting one hand over the other, he mimed them crawling away before pointing away from his body with both hands. 

Of course, Bip was clueless and looked to Skull for help.

“He’s asking where you found that Spider,” he explained, not seeming to even look at them.

“Oh! He came on a lead crate, I think,” they chirped, picking up said Spider to show him off. “He had a broken green light back then though. Like Skull! But his made him sick so I fixed him,” they explained.

Scratch looked worriedly at Skull, but the robot just shook his head not to say anything. They both knew what that meant. He could ask later. The last thing they needed was Becile Industries to find them now.

After a little more time and a lot more digging, they had enough parts to last them a little while. At least long enough for Skull to get some work in.

“Thanks, kid, you really saved us here.”

Bip beamed as they helped pack up the last of their load. It wasn't enough that anyone would notice, so they didn’t care. “Of course! It just sits around or gets melted down, may as well put it to good use! I can’t do it all the time, but if you need help, I can try,” they excitedly chirped.

Scratch’s shoulders shook. Looking at Skull he brought a hand to his mouth before moving it to lay palm up on his other hand then linked his two pointers together. “Bip’s a good friend,” he told him, eyes closing happily.

Which just made Skull huff. This was twice now Bip had bailed him out. He owed a debt and he wasn’t sure how he was going to pay this one off. They didn’t seem real eager for something in return, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be something. 

While Scratch taught them 'thank you' and 'your welcome', Skull shouldered the heaviest of the load. “Come on, Scratch. We got a long walk to get home.”

Waving Bip off, the two stepped out to head back to the manor. Riker would have a lot to do come morning.

Scratch curled a finger and pointed it down, then he flipped it palm up and brought it to his chest before wiggling his fingers in front of his mouth. “Should invite Bip.”

A burst of coal smoke. “To what? Sit around and listen to Jack laugh at himself? Or let Locksmith get his grubby little claws on them?”

He looked down at that. The manor really wasn’t the best place for guests, but still. Pointing away and across his body, Scratch circled his face and brought a finger to and down from his lip twice. “They look lonely,” he explained while they walked. It wasn’t his place, but he knew what it was like to be alone, and what could happen.

#spg #spgfic #Becile bots #fanbots #Bip #fanfic #spg fanfic #The Skull #Scratch

[chaotic-tired-bastard]

Subject Performance Analysis

Subject: Mach (002)

Date: Seventh of July, 1897

Subject is integrating very well with society. Subject shows none of the hesitation or flawed actions that Subject Rabbit had, but has some hesitancy when interacting physically with humans. For example, instead of giving a handshake to someone who offered his hand, Subject instead bowed its head and stepped back. Subjects Rabbit, The Spine, Upgrade, Hatchworth, and #5072 have not had any reaction to physical interaction in this way before. In fact, Subject Mach seems to be adverse to physical touch. Subject doesn't react this way when others touch him, though. Often it and Subject #5072 are found playing, like children would, and doing things that involve physical contact(I.E. Pattycake, Carrying #5072 places, etc…) with no hesitation. It also partakes in what the robots have dubbed "Pile Time", in which they all get into a big pile and go into stasis. Subject Mach is often at the bottom of the pile with Subject The Spine, covered by the others. It has shown no hesitancy with this action either.

Hypothesis: Subject lacks control over strength and full motor controls. Perhaps its functions were damaged during the 3-day war with Becile's elephants and it never mentioned it to anyone. I have no spare parts left, having used most of them on Subject 0, so any new parts I will have to get from broken robots and repair, or I will have to make them from scratch.

Subject's wiring has no need to be altered and is working fine. Performance, both physically and psychically, are good and no tubes or pipes need to be replaced. Musical performance is adequate, but it seems to have problems with its volume and its voicebox continues to short out and produce nonsense beeps. Will take a better look at it when I have the time and spare parts.

Subject has a good grasp of the English language and was, as noted before, the earliest to start speaking full sentences after activation. Subject took around one/half a minute to start using full sentences, as Subject Rabbit only used full sentences after a few days and it took Subject The Spine three hours. Others took roughly a week and communicated via music notes and chords, which they spoke-sang to the others before eventually using English. Subject also has started showing proficiency in other languages such as French, Latin, and other Romance Languages. Perhaps Subject will show interest in love songs and ballads in the future?

Subject, like the rest of the subjects, has found a hat to wear. It is a top hat with a light purple band. It had a hole it the top and Miss Iris sewed a patch over it, which seemed to boost the Subject's mood exponentially. Subject has also taken to wearing a long, dull green performer's wig, whereas Subject The Spine wears a shorter black wig and Subject Rabbit wears no wig at all. Subject #5072 also wears a longer wig, but it is more naturally coloured. Preference towards an unnatural colouring may just be a quirk this robot has, similar to how Subject Rabbit has the tendency to wear dresses.

Hypothesis: Rabbit's original design may have to do with its unsuitable clothing choices. Nevertheless, it is unacceptable for a robot to wear things that go against its design, however revised that design may be. I just... couldn't live with it if I made it look like her. I couldn't.

Core is stable and casing around core is as well. Core covering is a circle shape, as with most of the others. Upgrade is the only one with a differing shape, it resembling the shape of a heart. (Upgrade's core shape was Miss Iris's idea and she wouldn't leave me alone until I indulged her)

Re: Appearance. Miss Iris has been pressuring me to give the Subject a new faceplate. She says that the Subject has talked to her about "How he feels like he looks like a monster with the corroded faceplate and exposed jaw." First of all, I don't think that Mach really has a problem with it if it hadn't come to me and expressed the problem directly. Secondly, Miss Iris's use of "He" and "Him" pronouns for the robot is most interesting. Has Mach begun to develop a sense of gender? Or has it had this sense since it was first activated? Its appearance correlates with the pronouns it seems to prefer using, so there's further evidence that its coding wasn't damaged during the war, regardless of further physical damages. (Mach has come to me and asked for me to talk of him with the proper pronouns. Huzzah!)

Subject Report: Ended. Will come back and make proper notes when needed

#Mach #SPG OC #SPG Fanbot #OC #Fanbot #steam powered giraffe #spg #Noted from the POV of Peter Walter I #The Jon is referred to as number 5072 #Zer0 is referred to as Subject 0 #All the bots are referred to as Subject (Name) #Bad Dad Peter #Slight Transphobia TW from Peter I for just a few sentences #If you can't tell I don't think all too highly of Peter Walter I

[pawvi]

"Hi there! I might have overheard... Yeah, overheard, Scratch talking about me! I'm that little miss he spoke of, Ticci at your service, the Sixth!"

“Oh, so you’re Ticci! Pleased t’ meetcha. He said somethin’ about you bein’ built by someone else, right? Whoever it was did a wonderful job. ...Wasn’t Becile, was it?”

#inbox::Manor Mail #ic::Masked #smollest-bot