February142012
nogodsnomastersjustyes:
questionsforzexion:
plan9sinplace:
questionsforzexion:
It was Valentine’s day again — a holiday which Zexion cared about very little. He didn’t dislike it, the mushy hand-holding and candy hearts didn’t faze him in the least. As a being without a heart, the big emotional to-do really went right over his head. As such, his Valentine’s tradition…
Disturbed mumbling, which could possibly be interpreted as singing, rings throughout the halls as Zexion lingered in the kitchen, waiting for his tea to brew. There we no footsteps to be heard, perhaps a small whirring sound of something keeping this mysterious sound-producing creature afloat, as it meandered towards the kitchen area. The singing grew louder and louder as it glided along. Whatever it was singing seemed to be about… neurons and electrons…
Zexion was hardly paying attention, although the sound of whirring and singing caught the Schemer’s ear. What on earth was that noise? He was quite certain he wasn’t familiar with it — and the subject of the song reminded him (somewhat uneasily) of Vexen. With a slight frown on his face he edged towards the door, pausing for a moment before stepping into the hall to investigate the odd disturbance.
Something shuts the door behind him, a huge hulking blue robot with a tv screen for a face looms behind him. The screen flickers with fuzz and static, then settles on a huge grinning face. It lowers its arm from the door knob, large, flat, metal claws clicking.
Adjacent the large machine floats another, smaller one, but the design is drastically different. Three large monitors form its face, though the left one is smashed out and broken; a large image of a human eye is plastered on the top right monitor, and on the central bottom is human mouth. Grime and gunk coat the two that are still in working order, giving it an aged look about it. Behind them sits a round casing, metallic on the bottom and glass on the top, though the glass is clouded over and equally as unwashed as the monitors. Its working eye-screen pokes out at Zexion curiously before it speaks in the voice of a rather… addled older man.
“Yes Man,” he says quizzically, “where in the wastelands are we? And why is it so white here? And who is THAT?”
3PM
questionsforzexion:
It was Valentine’s day again — a holiday which Zexion cared about very little. He didn’t dislike it, the mushy hand-holding and candy hearts didn’t faze him in the least. As a being without a heart, the big emotional to-do really went right over his head. As such, his Valentine’s tradition…
Disturbed mumbling, which could possibly be interpreted as singing, rings throughout the halls as Zexion lingered in the kitchen, waiting for his tea to brew. There we no footsteps to be heard, perhaps a small whirring sound of something keeping this mysterious sound-producing creature afloat, as it meandered towards the kitchen area. The singing grew louder and louder as it glided along. Whatever it was singing seemed to be about… neurons and electrons…
