[IC] The Protomen

[ReaptheMusic]

Once upon a Time

In Dystopia.



Dr. Thomas Light walked, hidden in his own cloak as he made his way down the steps of the alley and into a bar, called "The Rusty Screw." The bartender looked up as he entered, and nodded in acknowledgement. As the good doctor took his place at the bar, the bartender shut off the open sign, locked the door, drew the shades, and put a bar over the door. Could never be too careful. The bar was empty, that is, of everyone who didn't need to be there. Quietly, the members of the Light Brigade came around the table. All of them were human, at this moment anyways. Any robot that wanted to join had yet to show interest, though the distress signal had been sent out a few days ago.

One of the members, a female, glanced behind the good doctor, and looked at him quizzically. "Rock isn't here tonight?"

"He's begun asking too many questions. Ones... I am not ready to answer." Thomas Lights gruff voice came as he sat down and pulled his dark hood back. "Bringing him here, showing him this, it was a mistake."

"You can't keep him from the truth forever," One man spat, looking at Light. "He will learn of the truth--"

"I Know, Beat." Light said, looking at the man. His eyes were full of bitterness. Of regret. The Good Doctor, responsible for everything, once nearly shining as a hero, had already lost a son. He turned his head towards the bartender. "Have we received any notice from our distress signal?"

"Not yet," The bartender replied quietly. His head tipped down into his hat and a sigh escaped his lips. "If they come, they will come tonight."

Light looked up, towards the door. "Then we will wait. "

[Experiment 249]

Justin sat in a pile of trash and pieces of furniture cushion smoking a cigarette. He was originally at the scrapyard to find something fun to twist into a new sculpture he was making. It was his face, but much bigger, he reasoned it represented his huge ego well. He took a drag from the cigarette and flicked to the side, it landed in the dirt without a sound. Electro looked up from behind a stack of tires he was making and stared at the discarded cigarette, and then back up at Justin.
With a wild jump, he quickly jumped and began looking around like a mad man. "Justin. We have a problem apparently. A distress signal coming from the west. It just transmitted and is not far away. It's coming from the Light Brigade." He said with little emotion, being analytical of the message he was distracted from acting human at this moment. He walked over to Justin his head still buzzing from transcribing the distress signal's location.
Just sat up, throwing some newspaper and bits of wire from his shirt. He wasn't dressed to meet the Light Brigade, and the signal was for robots only it seemed as he had not received any signals on any of his own devices. His white undershirt had filth all over it and he wore baggy green khakis, also covered in stains. "The Light Brigade is in need of help! We have to go! But, uh, can we go as one? I don't think I'm dressed to meet them. We'll pretend to be just you, ok?" Justin hopped from the pile of scrap and down to the waiting Electro. "Care to open up, show a little emotion too?" He joked while he stepped in front of the robot.
"Funny. And I was busy analyzing this data. Opening entrance gates." The robot spread it's arms into a T like shape and spread it's legs to stand shoulder distance apart. His chest opened up and it's head tipped back. Justin stepped inside and all the openings closed, perfectly fitting Justin's body. He could see a monitor in front of him, but he had no clue where the signal came from.
"Electro come on, take us there. You've got full control." Justin sat back, well, more of went limp and let Electro take him into a bar. "Is this it? This is their hideout? Place is a dump, but hey, let's make an entrance. Together, let me do the talking."
With that, Justin burst in the doors in full suit of robot and grabbed a seat at the bar, didn't order a drink, but almost compulsively did. He looked around at all of the other patrons huddled around each other and nodded his head and began to sing what he thought was a good introduction to himself. Well, it was more Justin than Electro. He sang:

He finished his number and turned to the people in the middle once more. "They call me Electroman, weeee- I uh, mean I heard your distress signal. Why did you call?" He said, leaning back in a very relaxed pose.

[Hawlin]

Intro

(Read-along :x )


Through the dull night, a distant clock chimes in a mechanic tone to mark the midnight of a new day. Through the haze from the smokestacks of the city, the scene opens as the camera descends through the smog to find Jericho sitting on the edge of the roof of a small half-constructed apartment complex on a block of others like it with a small courtyard in the middle of them which he faces. Next to him, he sets a long blue box, adorned with a small sticker of a rose and opens it to reveal a set of worn paints and a wooden brush. He reaches into his coat and pulls out a medicine measuring cup which he lifts to his skeletal jaw plate, blowing gently into it. The mist of his breath condenses on the sides and runs down to gather at the bottom as he begins to sing softly to himself.

'I feel you Johanna
I feel you
Do they think that walls can hide you?
Even now I'm at you window
I am in the dark beside you
Buried sweetly in your yellow hair
Johanna'

He turns the cup slowly, swirling to get everything off of the sides as he dips the brush in before tapping a bit off on the edge and letting the water drip onto the paints of the discarded water-colors paint set, narrowing his eyes before mixing colors on the palate and musing to himself, touching his chest as if feeling a heartbeat. His fingers click for a moment against the rib-like plates under his shirt. He continues, to the painting...

'And are you beautiful and pale,
With yellow hair,
Like her?
I'd want you beautiful and pale
The way I've dreamed you were'
"Johanna..." he sings to himself as he works on a piece of paper from a stack to his left. His hud shows only the outlined square of the sheet and shaded outlined splotches with words representing their color. His motions are swift, drawing in beige of her skin and tracing in texture with a smaller clean brush he leaves in the water.

'And if you're beautiful, what then,
With yellow hair,
Like wheat?
I think we shall not meet again
My little dove
My sweet
Johanna...'

He pauses for a moment while drawing in the texture of the hair and sighs, the steam washing over the painting as he looks at the brush which is simply marked 'Yellow' on his hud. 'I'll steel you...Johanna' he thinks to himself, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath.
In frustration, and partially in disgust for not even being able to see the color...if it was even the right color, he dunks the brush in the water, tipping it over and spilling the liquid across the roof.

'Good-bye Johanna
You're gone and yet you're mine
I'm fine Johanna
I'm fine'

He crumples the painting as he sings before stopping to look at his work, the blotches of the display showing a young woman's face from a time that felt so long ago...she shape of it at least. A small blip appears on his HUD from a distress signal as a notification of heart stats read across the bottom as he touches his chest, again, rising to his feet.
Somewhere below, the footsteps of one of the street dwellers stop as Jericho sighs the name once more before a dark haze envelopes his arm, a skull washing over the painting, violently setting it alight along with a bit of the roofing around him for a second.
The horrified mutterings of a small crowd gathered in volume from the shadows, shocked by his power; many crouching behind dumpsters or other trash for cover. They hid, both terrified and curious of the figure who tossed the ashen cinders of the painting into the darkness below, gradually going out and being consumed by the drafts before reaching the ground. The crowd grew quiet as it died, as not to draw attention to themselves though not invisible to Jericho in the slightest by now.

'And if I never hear your voice,
My turtledove,
My dear
I still have reason to rejoice,
The way ahead is clear
Johanna'

Jericho looks off in the direction of Wily's tower, the pollution obscuring it to near invisibility to the naked eye, though the GPS ping read its location through the darkness.

'And in the darkness
When I'm blind with what I can't forget
It's always morning in my mind
My little lamb
My pet
Johanna'

The image inverts a few times, to try in vain to pick up any trace of the building before giving up and bending down to pick up the paint set.

'You stay Johanna
The way I've dreamed you are
Oh look Johanna
A star'

He clicks the box shut with the brushes inside and returns it to his coat with the medicine cup. He looks up and notices movement in the sky, although it could be anything...though usually something unwelcome.

"A shooting star..." He sings as he once again ripples with his shield and kicks the pile of collected papers into the air, taking a chunk of the roof with it in a small explosion of burning cinders and half melted roof tar which peppers the neighboring building and a few of the onlookers as it rains down upon them.
Meanwhile, Jericho starts to walk off back to where he had climbed up, ignoring the cries from the congregation of paranoid gutter rats he had left in pain, but otherwise unharmed. A few were in uproar about their supposed 'protection', especially the ones who had been hit and burnt by debris. Seeing he had already left, they focused on quietly stomping out the smoldering pages in the small clearing before they either ignited other trash or attracted the attention of patrols...which it very well may have.

'And though I'll think of you, I guess
Until the day I die
I think I miss you less and less
As everyday goes by
Johanna'

He slides down the ladder, the rungs bent and broken in places from his weight as he had gotten up. The pavement cracks slightly from the landing, but his wastes no time in starting off down the ally away from the scene.

'And you'd be beautiful and pale
And look too much like her
If only angels could prevail
We'd be the way we were
Johanna'

He shifts the box of paints in his to make them less noticeable, and to make way for his hand as he touched his chest again, narrowing his eyes in as sad of an expression he could make before snapping back up, his tone laced with anger.

'Wake up,
Johanna
Another bright red day
We learn Johanna
To say
Good-bye~'

He lowers his hand from his chest into his jacket pocket, the camera lifting back into the sky. In the distance, he pulls the collar up on his jacket as a flying patrol robot passes in front of the camera. He is gone, but the scene of the event is now increasingly visible with the movement of the camera, revealing the courtyard to be buzzing with two other patrols which the previous one flies to join, spotlights flicking on and scouring the area in a different direction from Jericho. One seemed to notice something and take chase as the scene fades to black.

As I watch the marks on the radar disappear of the edge of the display on my Heads-Up-Display, I step out from behind the corner of the ally and onto the sidewalks of the mainstreet. Setting a GPS ping on the distress signal, I took a turn at the next block as per directions detail while I questioned my interest. Certainly others got the same message...or the police.

Jericho spits...or tries to...at the thought; the police were only good for meddling and ruining lives...the fading sounds of patrols at the scene he'd left were proof of that. Still, with the strength of the signal, the patrols should have 180'd by then to find the source. There was something strange about it, and Jericho made it in his mind to investigate.

[ReaptheMusic]

Joseph had to dance along with the music Electroman put on, his grin wide. He nudged Meg with his elbow. "That guy's so cool." Meg only nodded, giggling.

Once the dance number had been completed, Light stood up and went to greet the newcomer. "Welcome... Electroman. I'd recognize my designs anywhere. Plate model V1 yes? how have you come to move on your own?"

Regis at the bar continued to polish his glass, watching contently. "Ah... a newcomer... great...." He looked at where he had barred the door, which now swung precariously at the hinges before breaking off. "The first order of business is for you to repay me for a door, hi-tech lock system and metal blockade." Though, he silently supposed that it would be best for the door to be open, and he sensed Electroman would not be their only visitor tonight.

[Hawlin]

Fading in from black to the next scene, the moon drifts through a veil of smog, serenated by the melody of the last song which Jericho softly hummed to himself before a boot splashed into the puddle which had reflected the sky. He stood for a moment on the corner of the street, watching the walk signal blink and then go to red, the reflection of his side's sign over his shoulder in the calming puddle.

~ No cars...no cars...I lean against the signal post and elbow the 'walk' button a few more times while simply watching the ping of the GPS slowly pinpointing the origin on the city map on my hud.
The Rusty Screw; I couldn't say I had heard of it, although reviews were spotty at the very least. Needless to say, I had no intention of staying for a bite. Then again, the thought of the concept of the saying was...hrm...sobering, I guess. It would be funnier if the punch line wasn't so permanent. Still the name was a bit familiar, although I had been to a few 'Swill Stands', a few recently just to sit around. Well, recently being some few months ago...and only one, I learned my lesson quick.
The lights going the other direction switch to red as to herald all the nothing that they conducted during any other time of the day. Not many people choose to be out this late, for laughably obvious reasons. I mean, I didn't want to...okay, yeah, if they were going to look at me like I would hurt them, I may as well. Talking never seemed to help and- oh! Walk. ~

The calm of the image was broken again as Jericho started across the street, the pressed-steel sole of his boot kicking up a small spark as he dragged it from the puddle.

---

His stride slowed to cautious deliberate steps as he noticed the door broken from the hinge of the location the signal came from. Perhaps he should have picked up the pace; if he had been aware of the direness of the situation-
Well, again, 'what-ifs' seemed to have come and passed, and there still seemed to be some kind of commotion coming from inside.

Approaching the doorway from the side, the singing had died off and a little chatter hinted to the door not being a big deal. With a hand on the frame, Jericho took a step into the bar and was already rocking back on his heel with the consideration of leaving after noticing the patrons. Rather, one of them, and frankly, given the events of the last few months, it was hard to remember his initial aversion to the good doctor, Thomas Light.
Jericho hung there for a minute in silence before his gaze broke and he looked out across the others, his eyes seemingly piercing them each with the second of glance he gave them with his fixed expression, resting on Ness for a second longer than the others.
Without a word, he hoisted the door from the floor and set it back into place, holding it in the frame while inspecting the damages, perceivable as an excuse not to look at the others as he had his fair share of human contact for a lifetime.

"Light..." He sighed, the steam gently curling from the calm in his voice, despite the scene. "...I wouldn't suppose you happened to send-" he begins, bending the hinges back into place, his fingers pinching down on the nails in the frame and dragging them out as not to damage the wood before resetting the door in place...weakly, but it would have a good few slams left in it, even then it was just the nails, and it was clear there was a debt to be had regarding its initial damage. "-A distress signal, tonight?" he inquired, giving the door a few easy openings and closings to test the hinges which squeaked. Jericho's fingers traced the strong-bar braces which were hopelessly bent, not to mention the bar which laid in two. Rolling his eyes, Jericho turned around and leaned against the door to hold it closed, figuring he would serve as a better doorstop than anything and everything in the room combined.

...mostly because a pile of chairs can't throw a punch.
~ This thought made me smile to myself, in spite of my face. I didn't want to talk myself up, but tables and chairs don't try to keep danger out of a room. People do. ~