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Post by DEXTER RAB on Jan 29, 2016 1:59:32 GMT -5
Dexter sighed watching the garage down move upwards, letting in the sunlight into his work space. Well part of it anyway. The place where he did most of his general repairs anyway. Crude electronic that were in the middle of being taken apart littered the tables in the center. Boxes were neatly stacked on shelves holding replacements parts and junk he had salvaged. Extras that he hoarded in case the need arose. A small metal locker was shoved in the corner with a hand painted hazard diamond which stored different kinds of oil, gas, and other flammables. The bluentte rubbed his eyes, letting out a soft yawn before stepping down the two steps of his kitchen door. He booted up the computer on his desk and dropped some mail on the side. His attention drifted to his radio which he promptly turned on.
After a bit of static he caught a familiar voice. “Yes, sing it to me Bonnie.” Turn around bright eyes… What a great way to start his morning ,really, Piano and Ms. Tyler herself crooning such a powerful jam. He rested his hands on his hips as he watched the sun, already rising in the sky. He had missed sunrise as usual but the good thing about his home was that he had a decent view of the sun in the horizon. He hummed along as a breeze drifted past him before returning to his rolling chair and beginning to sift through mail. Most of which were work orders of course. None of them seemed really urgent though. The mechanic’s eyes drifted to a drawer as he searched for a pen and began scribbling notes to himself. His work was distracted with the music. What began as quiet humming turned into soft whispering and then finally as the song reached its climax he couldn’t help but sing loudly along with Bonnie Tyler.
It wasn’t his fault she had such a way with words. “I really need you tonight. Forever’s gonna start tonight!” With that he was up an unlucky stapler in his hand as he raised the volume of his radio. He put up his feet, leaning back in the office chair and Ms. Tyler continued belting out the words before finally calming down. If he could empathize with another human being it was probably Bonnie Tyler. God rest her soul. Dramatically he sand along t the last few words, “Nothing I can do a total eclipse of the heaaart.” He lay his arm over his eyes, dropping the stapler to the ground with a loud clank. He was beginning to think he would rather have a party than actually work. Maybe. But wasn’t that kind of sad to throw a party for yourself? Maybe he would celebrate inside the kitchen with ice cream and more oldies. Dexter sat up in his chair, legs dropping to the ground as he heard someone approaching. His head snapped towards the entrance, eyes widening in surprise at the newcomer. How long had they been standing there? He swallowed, flushing momentarily in embarrassment before getting up and dusting off his pants. “Mornin’. Whaddya need? I uh haven’t actually finished setting up.” He explained trying hard to ignore the heat in his neck and face.
542 words | @anyone | don't u judge him ulla |
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Post by P.I.C.O. on Feb 6, 2016 1:58:30 GMT -5
I LOVE YOU JUST A LITTLE TOO MUCH despite being a familiar (of sorts), pico was usually given some form of freedom outside the living space of his master. mostly when he was told to run errands, or, it was that time of the month. today just so happened to be one of those times. perhaps due to the fact that he was particularly efficient with his tasks last night, the humanoid had began to charge himself a lot earlier than he usually did; a possible explanation to why he was already here, almost an hour before his actual appointment. "salutations, dexter rab," said pico as he stood at the garage entrance. corners of his mouth had stretched outward to present the bluenette with a wide smile, "dexter rab was enjoying music. pico arrived before scheduled appointment." he suggested, large blue eyes blinking a total of three times before his hands then lifted. moving his index fingers to where his eyebrows were, the robot assistant pulled the corners downward to form a frown, "pico is 'apologetic.'"not that he really understood what it meant... rather, he knew what the emotion was, theoretically, but to say that he could actually feel it was false. though there may have been times where he came close to getting it, pico remained quite clueless most of the time. maybe that was why his owner was often upset with him. or maybe it had something to do with pico misunderstanding 90% of the things he was told. being literal-minded was one of his 'annoying' traits, he supposed. but then again, what did that even mean, really?he gave another blink as his gaze scanned the garage. blue eyes brightened up slightly at the sight of all the things here and there. then, he looked to the mechanic once more, his former smile returning, "pico will dispose of objects you do not need again in your lifetime." he said, though was really just offering to lend a hand with anything, "pico will help for-" a brief pause, "twenty-five minutes and thirty-seven-point-three-one seconds." ... or, you know, until his exact appointment time. |
MADE BY VEL OF GS |
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Post by DEXTER RAB on Feb 7, 2016 17:54:14 GMT -5
The mechanic paused for a moment to check his calendar. Today indeed, was Pico’s appointment. He hadn’t even checked his schedule for the day having been too enthralled by Bonnie Tyler. He waved back at the pink robot smiling back at him. “It’s alright Pico. Don’t worry about it.” he began. Dexter swiveled towards a filing cabinet, standing up to pull out one of the drawers. It was too full which made finding Pico’s file quick. “Just a checkup right?” he asked. Pico was a godly familiar after all. He was obviously very well taken care of. Dexter’s paychecks were proof of that. He didn’t bother correcting the small robot of his name. He’d already attempted multiple times before.
He perked up at Pico’s offer, eyes wandering over to the array of shit he had shoved into the corners of his little garage. He supposed while he did try to keep clean, he was a bit of a hoarder. No doubt his patient had noticed. “Thanks for the offer. I guess I could incinerate some of my junk.” Dexter said, standing up. He then frowned nervously. “Pico, you can dispose of this safely right?” the bluenette asked as he pulled out the garbage bag out of a trashcan next to his desk. He didn’t need to robot to burn down his house. It was a miracle he even had a house to begin with having een stripped of all his wealth beforehand. In a gesture of good faith his sister had managed to have this arranged for him. He highly doubted she was smart enough to do it a second time. Dexter tied the bag of trash, which was generally fish leftovers and rolled up papers, and tossed it at his companion.
He began surveying the area quickly writing off many of the items that laid strewn about as ‘necessary’ and ‘for later classification’. He picked up multiple food wrappers which he deigned trash. “Wrappers uhhh…I think I have some dead light bulbs somewhere.” He continued unhelpfully. He was being difficult. The young man looked over at Pico adding, “Rusted parts mostly. I think. Rusted parts you find that can’t be cleaned up with some steel wool and WD40.” He explained, kicking a sheet of metal. “While we do that tell me how’ve you been Pico. Any issues with your systems?”
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Post by P.I.C.O. on Feb 15, 2016 3:18:17 GMT -5
I LOVE YOU JUST A LITTLE TOO MUCH seeing the garbage bag filled with... well, garbage, the pinknette's eyes suddenly became starry eyed, "not a problem, dexter rab." he said, because for the life of him (or lack thereof), he's never exactly understood why 'you're welcome' was an acceptable response to appreciations (what were they 'welcoming,' exactly?), "yes, pico can!" he further responded, the enthusiasm in his voice as clear as his expression suggested. "pico will now enter your work space." an announcement, just incase the mechanic was ever caught off-guard by his sudden 'intrusion.' he made his way over to the bag of trash, hardly able to even keep his excitement; hands had long extended before he got remotely close to where the twenty-three-year-old had tossed it. as dexter went on to browse through all of the things he may or may not need to get rid of, the humanoid had already become too engrossed with the garbage (which he untied as soon as his fingers came in contact with it) to even pay attention. "pico will take these," he said, stuffing a few junk parts into his mouth and swallowing them whole. he then pulled out small bits of cut up metal pipes and gave them a nod of approval as well, "pico will take these."at the mention of 'dead light bulbs,' however, the pinknette cranked his neck a good 180 degrees to look to dexter, "pico will look at these 'dead' light bulbs, please. when did they take their last breath? it is very unnatural that they were 'alive,' however. are you sure they were 'alive,' dexter rab?" asked the robot curiously as he got up on his feet, momentarily disregarding the piles of garbage he had 'created' by taking them out of the bag. "pico will take the rusted parts. pico will examine the rusted parts. may pico have the rusted parts, dexter rab?" he further requested, bright-eyed and enthusiastic as he suddenly got very close to the mechanic, "pico has been well. pico was unable to comprehend dad's speech last evening. dad was angry." was that even anything new? nonetheless, he continued: "pico suggested speech lessons for communication improvement. dad was angrier. dad's face turned red due to anger. pico suggested an ice pack. dad was very upset. pico was dismissed. pico recharged early. pico turned on early this morning. pico arrived at dexter rab's work space early."there was a slight pause, before the pinknette added, "no issues with pico's systems have been detected. dad threw objects at pico regularly. it was never painful; pico will demonstrate 'pain.'" he blinked, and moved a hand forward to give dexter a small pinch on the forearm. he had made it a habit to always make double sure that others knew what he was trying to communicate by showing them his exact intentions. after all, he couldn't actually feel things such as 'pain.' once that was done, the pinknette retrieved his hand, "pico will give small talk in return. dad says it is good manners. how are you, dexter rab? have you encountered issues with your systems?" or just, you know, his life in general. but 'sytems' obviously made more sense to the robot, "pico will enter listener mode while dexter rab locates corpses of deceased light bulbs." |
MADE BY VEL OF GS |
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