Do you have a gun? Because I should really have a gun.

Modded by @carmenbathwater Magic anons always on

[adventuregunsphere]

Blog for Adventure core/ Rick Suggestive stuff is allowed bc mod is 18+ (will be tagged)

Probably extremely ooc don't worry about it

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith cleaned himself up and tossed the now rags into the corner of the room.. He'd do something with them later. For now, he flopped down on the bed with a huff.

The hiccup wasn't missed by him. Nor were the other pathetic signs.

Keith sighed, getting up with a growl in his chest. That nagging, annoying feeling that he should at least do something was persistent, he wouldn't get a wink of relaxation till it was done.

"What's your problem now? It felt good didn't it?"

[thefactualsphere]

"I..- Dont.. don't get me wrong- it did-! very... Very good in fact, I just..-"

A sigh escaped his processor, his hand thumbing anxiously against the ridge of his hull like a nervous tick.

"Its... not to do with you- I'm just. Broken. Busted or. Or something. Don't worry about it, luv, you did-.. It was... amazing.."

He sucked in a breath.

"Just... weird aftershocks or... something... I don't know this- happens sometimes just..- not as... strongly...usually...."

[adventuregunsphere]

His optic lowered in a deadpan gaze... Keith stared at him for a second before he put his finger on what he was seeing.

"You're experiencing a drop. Not uncommon.. I should have guessed as much..." Keith gave a longer sigh, rolling over as if it were a massive undertaking.

Wheatley felt it out of practically nowhere as the other android put a hand on his head. Keith pet his hull awkwardly, but with such a confidence that it couldn't be brushed aside... He ran his hand over the seam of his plates, his handle gently, where he knew feeling transmitted to the main body.

"It will pass, and you'll be fine. It's normal for someone like you to feel bad.. You just.." he thought for a moment for a way that Wheatley would understand...

"You used up all your good emotions and they're recharging now. Won't take long if you just go to sleep," he murmured in a bitter tone, despite the words themselves intented to comfort...

[thefactualsphere]

"Oh...auh... Of course... a... drop... should of... should of known.."

He seemed a little saddened at that- of course something that good couldn't linger forever. It never did, did it?

The gentle touchings did seem to help, quite a lot, actually. His body went from a tense sort of stress to a more mellow laxness. His optic eased into a more dreary, spacey gaze.

"Sorry... Yeah.. Yeah I'll just... right, try to do that then..."

His arms fell a bit, around his chest as he looked into the off distance.

"...Thank you, Keith.."

[adventuregunsphere]

"It's nothing..." he murmured, staring off anywhere but at Wheatley..

He continued to pet the metallic surface, letting Wheatley relax for a rather long while... Keith turned after what was the fifteenth minute of humoring the nonsense of petting the other man's head.. He flopped over with a huff, leaving his back to Wheatley and flipping the covers over himself...

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith cleaned himself up and tossed the now rags into the corner of the room.. He'd do something with them later. For now, he flopped down on the bed with a huff.

The hiccup wasn't missed by him. Nor were the other pathetic signs.

Keith sighed, getting up with a growl in his chest. That nagging, annoying feeling that he should at least do something was persistent, he wouldn't get a wink of relaxation till it was done.

"What's your problem now? It felt good didn't it?"

[thefactualsphere]

"I..- Dont.. don't get me wrong- it did-! very... Very good in fact, I just..-"

A sigh escaped his processor, his hand thumbing anxiously against the ridge of his hull like a nervous tick.

"Its... not to do with you- I'm just. Broken. Busted or. Or something. Don't worry about it, luv, you did-.. It was... amazing.."

He sucked in a breath.

"Just... weird aftershocks or... something... I don't know this- happens sometimes just..- not as... strongly...usually...."

[adventuregunsphere]

His optic lowered in a deadpan gaze... Keith stared at him for a second before he put his finger on what he was seeing.

"You're experiencing a drop. Not uncommon.. I should have guessed as much..." Keith gave a longer sigh, rolling over as if it were a massive undertaking.

Wheatley felt it out of practically nowhere as the other android put a hand on his head. Keith pet his hull awkwardly, but with such a confidence that it couldn't be brushed aside... He ran his hand over the seam of his plates, his handle gently, where he knew feeling transmitted to the main body.

"It will pass, and you'll be fine. It's normal for someone like you to feel bad.. You just.." he thought for a moment for a way that Wheatley would understand...

"You used up all your good emotions and they're recharging now. Won't take long if you just go to sleep," he murmured in a bitter tone, despite the words themselves intented to comfort...

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith cleaned himself up and tossed the now rags into the corner of the room.. He'd do something with them later. For now, he flopped down on the bed with a huff.

The hiccup wasn't missed by him. Nor were the other pathetic signs.

Keith sighed, getting up with a growl in his chest. That nagging, annoying feeling that he should at least do something was persistent, he wouldn't get a wink of relaxation till it was done.

"What's your problem now? It felt good didn't it?"

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith looked straight up, alert suddenly at the sound of knocking- He never really expected anyone to bother him while he was working.. like he just sort of got lost in it when he needed the relief this badly.

Wheatley was lucky he'd just finished putting on the last new bolts, or he might have gotten one thrown at his head.

He stared at the other for a moment, his eyes listlessly roving over his face.. His optic.. It felt weird to see him, when Keith was so certain he'd died. Whatever happened, he was torn on whether or not he wanted to know...

Keith nodded awkwardly, acknowledging him before he silently went back to screwing on a bolt he'd already tightened to perfection.. making himself look busy....

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley clearly took the invitation to step inside the garage. It was dusty, but it was clear Keith was already making use of the materials here. He glanced over to the old mower that he had taken apart and put back together again, seemingly impressed with how his handles twitched back.

"I see you've er. Made yourself useful! Not.. not that that was a requirement. I moreso just meant uh. Yeah it didn't come out right, did it? Ahah... what I meant was you're... keeping yourself busy. And all. I know first hand that it's not... the easiest adjusting to being back. Back here. With gravity and stuff more less."

He placed a hand on his neck, scratching it looking for things to say. Something that would make the bot feel better.

"When I was first ah. Fixed up and such. There wasn't much to do in the barn- I didn't like talking with all the er. Scary folks in there. Some tiny ones really liked the sounds of the radio when I could jangle it right- honestly there aren't as many stations as I could get to down here than when I was playing for you, hah..-! But I... made due. Apparently they didn't have access to a radio and- shoot... I uh... rambling... again- What I mean to say is I'm glad you got something to keep your mind on. Something to do with your hands."

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith hissed softly under his breath, getting up and hiding behind a shelf.. He searched through it, looking for nothing but the motion of rummaging through it to make himself look busy...

He still hadn't thought through how he felt about the blue eyed bot.

It was a complicated mix of frustrations.. He hadn't done anything wrong, in fact, he'd made it more barable-...and yet still Keith couldn't get rid of the gut reaction that hearing his voice rambling on instilled in him. It brought right back up how long they'd spent together up there, his voice the only thing that really tied him to anything at all.

He wanted to sit somewhere louder than this. He wanted to.. do something disgustingly affectionate.. Keith was relieved and angry and maybe just a little glad to see him... But he couldn't think straight enough to phrase any of it properly.

Keith could feel his hands shaking slightly at the pressure inside his mind, hardly able to conjure up any sort of thoughts past the tide of racing ones... He was still so unused to having control of his tongue, even if it was metaphorically now- His thoughts weren't any better.

[thefactualsphere]

"- I'm sure it's gonna be real useful with you around, seeing as you seem all technologically capable and- and..."

He stopped, finally looking up to meet his gaze. Unfortunately the guy wasn't an idiot. He saw the way he moved about, saw the shaky tension in his fingertips, the way his faux tendons clenched.

".....Oh."

Of course. Why would he try to barge in so soon? He was probably just trying not to be rude or something.. He TOLD him to just say something if he didn't want him here..!

It was unfortunate, too, how expressive he was. It was really frustrating how his handles fell back, how his lids shifted to show exactly how he felt- a little disappointment shifted to exaggerate his actual emotion.

"....If you want to talk, we.. I will be inside. Maybe try to come in later tonight..? I'm... not sure how chilly it'll... It'll be in here... right.. ahm..-"

He tried to make his way out, trying to step out the door without tripping on anything laying out.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith's faceplates clenched in on his hull, his body shivering as his hand clenched around a wrench..

Just as Wheatley had approached the door, on his way out.. Keith finally found his voice-

"How'd you survive?" he murmured it low, but his voice carried right through the echoing space to pierce his companion..

The combine had plucked Keith out of orbit, knocking Wheatley straight into the Earth's surface in the process... By all means, Keith had believed the other dead.

But that tone was so familiar to the other.. That low, shivering thing... guilt.

[thefactualsphere]

He stopped in his tracks, clearly frozen by the words that had been asked to him. He didn't... usually like thinking about it. In fact, he tried his hardest not to let that part of his return bother him- or try to not let it worm it's way back into that overactive head of his, lest he over think it into a frenzy.

He stepped back slowly into the garage, expression for some reason.... totally unreadable.

He turned slow to meet his gaze, trying to think if he should tell the truth or some lie to make things seem easier to swallow.

"I..... I didn't."

He kept still for a bit, almost like bracing himself for the words he needed to say.

"... When I crashed, I... didn't have a whole lot of time.. because of how many ah- warning lights were in my field of view I could... Make out that I probably wasn't going to make it..."

He laughed a little- desperate to try and make things seem light with this topic, but kind of failing. Pretty miserably really.

"Rick found me a few moments before I shut down- That... moment is a little fuzzy, since well- I'm pretty sure uh. All.. all my systems were shutting down. But I think I apologized... Yeah... For... for everything. I think I assumed there wouldn't be another chance uh... so..."

He cleared his throat.

"Rick found a mechanic in the city an hour away to fix me as... best as a human could in whatever year it is. Bloody hell, the guy brought me back to life! I didn't know that was even possible. Why, I had to of just been.... just been charred to bits I tell you..! Rick took me to the Amie down there to finish the job in the end..."

[adventuregunsphere]

It stung to hear.. Keith grimaced visibly, staring down at the odds and ends collected on the shelf in front of him.. He was hiding behind them, that was clear now, if it hadn't been before..

"You should give him my.. thanks, then," he managed to force out at last. It took a lot out of him to actually thank Rick.. But something had clearly.. changed. He didn't even respond to his earlier prodding like he used to... Sickeningly, Keith thought he might have to apologize to the guy..

That was another day's problem.

"It was my fault," he said quietly.. "I sent out coordinates.. It was all I could do. I didn't think something like that would come..."

Keith growled softly at the memory... Wheatley might have been spared a kindness not to know of what he went through..

Everything felt.. terrible. He felt weaker than he had ever been, shaking audibly now.. He couldn't even pretend to look through the parts on the shelf anymore. Wheatley could see the look about him, as if it took him everything not to fold in on himself right then and there. Everything was setting in now that he'd been fixed for a while...

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley frowned- or.. it was definitely obvious he was unhappy in some way with how his optic shifted.

"You....You did?" He muttered, seemingly a bit surprised.

"Hah... I uh... didn't know you could do that... Could I have done that too...? Maybe it... would have been more useful than radio shows..."

He was still trying to keep the conversation light, but that ship had sailed a good while ago. And he knew it.

Wheatley stepped forward, bottom lid lifting up to perhaps convey a soft, forgiving smile.

"Hey, Mate, its- it's alright. Y' didn't know who'd show- I uh... I kind of figured you couldn't respond to anything I said to ya, so it maybe helped just to... do ANYTHING up there."

He held a hand out, trying to coax him out from between those shelves.

"It might not of been what uh.. what you were hoping for.. But in the end, we both got out of there.... It's how er.. "fate", I like that word. That's how "Fate" worked out, yeah?"

He gave a nervous chuckle.

"And... adjusting to all this change will take a bit- hell, I'm still having a hard time of it- But... it'll probably be easier for ya with a companion, yeah..?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith gave a bark of a laugh, burying his optic in his palms as he tried desperately to stop the noises that wanted to come out of him. He hadn't been able to make anything but his corrupted ones in so long..

"I calculated them," he half laughed, "-whenever I had enough in me to hold it off and think for a fucking minute-"

His voice came out in a sorry state, his voicebox crackling and glitching.. But he was still speaking words.. Real words. Not just gibberish... Keith sounded just awful, really.. Like he couldn't stop himself from taking the first hand offered to him, even if just verbally yet..

"And.. I-" his voice crackled with heavy static.. "I came back and now it's all- just... Why're you the only thing that didn't change," he finally moaned, pulling at the faceplates in his hull much like one would pull at their hair.. He was too distracted, too averse to the idea of being touched to take Wheatley's hand yet.. Instead he seemed to shrink in on himself with all his miseries...

Such a competent figure, reduced to this.. Maybe he was still corrupted.. But he just couldn't find it anywhere in him to lash out at the other.. He meant well and Wheatley may as well have been the only thing, yet again, grounding him to everything..

[thefactualsphere]

He was silent again, really really trying to say the right things here. God it felt like a quick time event- like if he did the wrong thing everything here will come crumbling down. If he said the wrong words in the wrong order, maybe he'll be shoo'd out of here and he'll have done nothing but make it worse.

"We.... we were up there for.... a long time, Keith." He strayed on his words for a bit- he felt a bit terrified really about how sensitive this whole thing is. One wrong step...

"Change doesn't.... have to be a bad thing... I mean, Look at us-! We used to just be little metal balls that couldn't move without guidance or assistance but now-"

He gestured downward.

"We got legs! We can go wherever we want, whenever we want- And we have arms, so we don't have to be "ohh press that button ohhh pick up the gun" because WE can press the buttons! We can pick up the guns! That's a change I'd say is pretty damn brilliant-!"

He cleared his throat, deciding maybe he was laying it on a little strong.

"And with uh- Neil... He's still a really great guy. I don't know how you remember him when he was... alive... but maybe it's worth it to... to get to know the new one..? Maybe.. Maybe this change doesn't have to be as "world ending" as you... as you think it is..?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith was silent for a moment, complaints right on the tip of his tongue. He wanted nothing but to wallow and whine and bitch at the top of his synthetic lungs about the shoddy craftsmanship of the new models, the way they could only walk if they were extra careful not to break the thin metal bearings that held them together- Everything seemed so degraded.

But as he took a deep breath, his optic glanced up at the other.

He was really trying his best to see things positively.. Where Keith remembered every little detail of how 'good' it had been... He only saw how it was now. Keith knew full well enough that he definitely didn't remember a thing about it. Just everything after the uploads had started...

Keith scrunched up into a ball for just a moment, every last joint in his body curled up real tight as he crouched down on the ground. He gave a loud growl, letting his frustrations vocalize for just a moment.

And then he popped back up, his faceplates flaring outwards slightly as he glared off towards Wheatley. He seemed focused specifically on one part of his head as he suddenly stepped forward, reaching upwards... He grabbed onto the handle attached to the poor man's head, pulling him down lightly but firmly to look at it on his own level.

"I'm the only one who knows how to craft these fucking bodies anymore... Let me loosen these so you can actually breathe," he said it gruffly, but clearly Wheatley had changed something- He wasn't on the verge of tearing himself apart.. It seemed more like he'd focused his energies on him now. Namely: fixing that shoddy design he'd been given.

Whether or not that was a good thing for Wheatley might have escaped him at this particular moment... but it seemed like he was successful in trying to get Keith to focus on the present.

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley had watched in a lot of concern as he saw the other slinking to the ground like that. His plates had flared a little, but the movement was rather constricted by those handles in the way. They lowered back behind him like the ears of a prey animal- he was rather nervous- maybe he wasn't doing a good enough job. He was never really good at giving pep rallies- none of the humans he used to take care of really cared for his words of encouragement before a test.

His own thoughts were quickly interrupted as his head instead filled with alarm. He yelped in fear at the sudden grippage on his oh so sensitive handle, a splutter coming from his vocal processor to maybe begin to plead for forgiveness, that he didn't mean whatever he said or did-

But stopped when there was no fist flying at his face or knee to his gut.

"A...ah- if... if that's what... you want... I think I... I think I can breath just, just fine, actually, but- not... not stopping you I guess- if. If this is what we're doing now-"

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith already had a screwdriver suited to his make in hand, staring at Wheatley's handle as he felt over it generously. He knew exactly how these came off. How to tighten and loosen them was nothing to him. It gave him something to fix.

"Good. Your model is horrible for this, restrains your entire face," he grumbled, already taking the screwdriver to a screw in the right side of his upper handle.

"Like no one thinks about how these things move. There's no hydraulics in here. It doesn't need restraining. It's fucking ludicrous. Do you even want the handles-?" the question came out of his complaining as he sat, rubbing his thumb over the center rubber on the handle where it was thickest.. He was solely focused on his task at hand, loosening those awful things on his core head.

[thefactualsphere]

"A-ah..- Aaaah-" he seemed a bit wobbly with his posture since his head had been being pulled in such a way- It sort of felt like a mother who was brushing your hair out but way too vigorously. There was no pain, but it was alot of jerking motions.

"I-- U-uhhg-" he didn't really know how to find his words. He was a bit stiff with his stance, his bottom optic lid closing upward in a confusing expression. It wasn't really easy to tell what he was feeling here.

"I uh... I dd...dunno..- I guess just- just what yy-youu wanna do..-"

He felt a little bit warmer- not too noticeably, but it was pooling a little in his face. Wheatley couldn't pin down where it was coming from- probably embarrassment. He wasn't used to being moved about like this.

[adventuregunsphere]

"I'll loosen it for now. We'll see about it later," he was curt, moving to do the same to the other handle as he again pulled on it to keep the taller android at his level. He didn't offer a chair or anything, not that there was one to offer. Wheatley had to crouch over a bit to get to where Keith wanted him...

He moved quickly, but he held onto the very center of his handle the whole time. Keith kept a tight grip on it as he unscrewed the other side just enough that Wheatley could wiggle it without damaging his hull.

"Must be standard procedure now... What a wonder. I bet they've swapped out for cheaper cores now too. Must be a thinner metal on those if they screwed it this tight... "

He kept working, switching to the lower handle and allowing Wheatley to stand up, even just slightly at the movement. His thumb kept rubbing at his handle, running over the grooves as he went. Still talking to himself all the way-

[thefactualsphere]

The metal in his face plates continued to get warmer the longer this went on. He arched his back down in order to go in the angles that Keith wanted him to go in, gentle huffs coming from his ventilation with just how much vigor he was putting into this- hes... never been touched all that much. He was carried up to the surface by Rick after his final repairs, and of course Buddy seemed to crawl all over him- but he couldn't even compare anything to these bizarre sensations he was feeling now.

"Gg....good god..-" He wobbled a bit on his feet. He didn't even realize how sensitive those handles of his were- he's never been grabbed this violently by them afterall..

And Keith was so in deep with his self monologuing, he probably didn't even realize what he was doing to him.

He needed something to hold on to- something to stop him from toppling over from both the weird sensations and the craning of his neck. There must be something wrong with him- has to be.

"K...Kee..ith..? Fuckk-"

[adventuregunsphere]

The android worked away thoughtlessly, finally touching the last screw before Wheatley interrupted him..

His optic moved slowly to his head, staring at him.

"You're hot," he stated blankly.. He finally noticed all the fans running, the color flushing inside his hull and his optic..

He glanced down his front, taking in all of Wheatley in a flicker of a look.

"Hm.." Keith got a certain look in his optic now.. He ran a hand across the rubber casing, studying Wheatley's expression like a particularly interesting bug.

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith looked straight up, alert suddenly at the sound of knocking- He never really expected anyone to bother him while he was working.. like he just sort of got lost in it when he needed the relief this badly.

Wheatley was lucky he'd just finished putting on the last new bolts, or he might have gotten one thrown at his head.

He stared at the other for a moment, his eyes listlessly roving over his face.. His optic.. It felt weird to see him, when Keith was so certain he'd died. Whatever happened, he was torn on whether or not he wanted to know...

Keith nodded awkwardly, acknowledging him before he silently went back to screwing on a bolt he'd already tightened to perfection.. making himself look busy....

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley clearly took the invitation to step inside the garage. It was dusty, but it was clear Keith was already making use of the materials here. He glanced over to the old mower that he had taken apart and put back together again, seemingly impressed with how his handles twitched back.

"I see you've er. Made yourself useful! Not.. not that that was a requirement. I moreso just meant uh. Yeah it didn't come out right, did it? Ahah... what I meant was you're... keeping yourself busy. And all. I know first hand that it's not... the easiest adjusting to being back. Back here. With gravity and stuff more less."

He placed a hand on his neck, scratching it looking for things to say. Something that would make the bot feel better.

"When I was first ah. Fixed up and such. There wasn't much to do in the barn- I didn't like talking with all the er. Scary folks in there. Some tiny ones really liked the sounds of the radio when I could jangle it right- honestly there aren't as many stations as I could get to down here than when I was playing for you, hah..-! But I... made due. Apparently they didn't have access to a radio and- shoot... I uh... rambling... again- What I mean to say is I'm glad you got something to keep your mind on. Something to do with your hands."

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith hissed softly under his breath, getting up and hiding behind a shelf.. He searched through it, looking for nothing but the motion of rummaging through it to make himself look busy...

He still hadn't thought through how he felt about the blue eyed bot.

It was a complicated mix of frustrations.. He hadn't done anything wrong, in fact, he'd made it more barable-...and yet still Keith couldn't get rid of the gut reaction that hearing his voice rambling on instilled in him. It brought right back up how long they'd spent together up there, his voice the only thing that really tied him to anything at all.

He wanted to sit somewhere louder than this. He wanted to.. do something disgustingly affectionate.. Keith was relieved and angry and maybe just a little glad to see him... But he couldn't think straight enough to phrase any of it properly.

Keith could feel his hands shaking slightly at the pressure inside his mind, hardly able to conjure up any sort of thoughts past the tide of racing ones... He was still so unused to having control of his tongue, even if it was metaphorically now- His thoughts weren't any better.

[thefactualsphere]

"- I'm sure it's gonna be real useful with you around, seeing as you seem all technologically capable and- and..."

He stopped, finally looking up to meet his gaze. Unfortunately the guy wasn't an idiot. He saw the way he moved about, saw the shaky tension in his fingertips, the way his faux tendons clenched.

".....Oh."

Of course. Why would he try to barge in so soon? He was probably just trying not to be rude or something.. He TOLD him to just say something if he didn't want him here..!

It was unfortunate, too, how expressive he was. It was really frustrating how his handles fell back, how his lids shifted to show exactly how he felt- a little disappointment shifted to exaggerate his actual emotion.

"....If you want to talk, we.. I will be inside. Maybe try to come in later tonight..? I'm... not sure how chilly it'll... It'll be in here... right.. ahm..-"

He tried to make his way out, trying to step out the door without tripping on anything laying out.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith's faceplates clenched in on his hull, his body shivering as his hand clenched around a wrench..

Just as Wheatley had approached the door, on his way out.. Keith finally found his voice-

"How'd you survive?" he murmured it low, but his voice carried right through the echoing space to pierce his companion..

The combine had plucked Keith out of orbit, knocking Wheatley straight into the Earth's surface in the process... By all means, Keith had believed the other dead.

But that tone was so familiar to the other.. That low, shivering thing... guilt.

[thefactualsphere]

He stopped in his tracks, clearly frozen by the words that had been asked to him. He didn't... usually like thinking about it. In fact, he tried his hardest not to let that part of his return bother him- or try to not let it worm it's way back into that overactive head of his, lest he over think it into a frenzy.

He stepped back slowly into the garage, expression for some reason.... totally unreadable.

He turned slow to meet his gaze, trying to think if he should tell the truth or some lie to make things seem easier to swallow.

"I..... I didn't."

He kept still for a bit, almost like bracing himself for the words he needed to say.

"... When I crashed, I... didn't have a whole lot of time.. because of how many ah- warning lights were in my field of view I could... Make out that I probably wasn't going to make it..."

He laughed a little- desperate to try and make things seem light with this topic, but kind of failing. Pretty miserably really.

"Rick found me a few moments before I shut down- That... moment is a little fuzzy, since well- I'm pretty sure uh. All.. all my systems were shutting down. But I think I apologized... Yeah... For... for everything. I think I assumed there wouldn't be another chance uh... so..."

He cleared his throat.

"Rick found a mechanic in the city an hour away to fix me as... best as a human could in whatever year it is. Bloody hell, the guy brought me back to life! I didn't know that was even possible. Why, I had to of just been.... just been charred to bits I tell you..! Rick took me to the Amie down there to finish the job in the end..."

[adventuregunsphere]

It stung to hear.. Keith grimaced visibly, staring down at the odds and ends collected on the shelf in front of him.. He was hiding behind them, that was clear now, if it hadn't been before..

"You should give him my.. thanks, then," he managed to force out at last. It took a lot out of him to actually thank Rick.. But something had clearly.. changed. He didn't even respond to his earlier prodding like he used to... Sickeningly, Keith thought he might have to apologize to the guy..

That was another day's problem.

"It was my fault," he said quietly.. "I sent out coordinates.. It was all I could do. I didn't think something like that would come..."

Keith growled softly at the memory... Wheatley might have been spared a kindness not to know of what he went through..

Everything felt.. terrible. He felt weaker than he had ever been, shaking audibly now.. He couldn't even pretend to look through the parts on the shelf anymore. Wheatley could see the look about him, as if it took him everything not to fold in on himself right then and there. Everything was setting in now that he'd been fixed for a while...

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley frowned- or.. it was definitely obvious he was unhappy in some way with how his optic shifted.

"You....You did?" He muttered, seemingly a bit surprised.

"Hah... I uh... didn't know you could do that... Could I have done that too...? Maybe it... would have been more useful than radio shows..."

He was still trying to keep the conversation light, but that ship had sailed a good while ago. And he knew it.

Wheatley stepped forward, bottom lid lifting up to perhaps convey a soft, forgiving smile.

"Hey, Mate, its- it's alright. Y' didn't know who'd show- I uh... I kind of figured you couldn't respond to anything I said to ya, so it maybe helped just to... do ANYTHING up there."

He held a hand out, trying to coax him out from between those shelves.

"It might not of been what uh.. what you were hoping for.. But in the end, we both got out of there.... It's how er.. "fate", I like that word. That's how "Fate" worked out, yeah?"

He gave a nervous chuckle.

"And... adjusting to all this change will take a bit- hell, I'm still having a hard time of it- But... it'll probably be easier for ya with a companion, yeah..?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith gave a bark of a laugh, burying his optic in his palms as he tried desperately to stop the noises that wanted to come out of him. He hadn't been able to make anything but his corrupted ones in so long..

"I calculated them," he half laughed, "-whenever I had enough in me to hold it off and think for a fucking minute-"

His voice came out in a sorry state, his voicebox crackling and glitching.. But he was still speaking words.. Real words. Not just gibberish... Keith sounded just awful, really.. Like he couldn't stop himself from taking the first hand offered to him, even if just verbally yet..

"And.. I-" his voice crackled with heavy static.. "I came back and now it's all- just... Why're you the only thing that didn't change," he finally moaned, pulling at the faceplates in his hull much like one would pull at their hair.. He was too distracted, too averse to the idea of being touched to take Wheatley's hand yet.. Instead he seemed to shrink in on himself with all his miseries...

Such a competent figure, reduced to this.. Maybe he was still corrupted.. But he just couldn't find it anywhere in him to lash out at the other.. He meant well and Wheatley may as well have been the only thing, yet again, grounding him to everything..

[thefactualsphere]

He was silent again, really really trying to say the right things here. God it felt like a quick time event- like if he did the wrong thing everything here will come crumbling down. If he said the wrong words in the wrong order, maybe he'll be shoo'd out of here and he'll have done nothing but make it worse.

"We.... we were up there for.... a long time, Keith." He strayed on his words for a bit- he felt a bit terrified really about how sensitive this whole thing is. One wrong step...

"Change doesn't.... have to be a bad thing... I mean, Look at us-! We used to just be little metal balls that couldn't move without guidance or assistance but now-"

He gestured downward.

"We got legs! We can go wherever we want, whenever we want- And we have arms, so we don't have to be "ohh press that button ohhh pick up the gun" because WE can press the buttons! We can pick up the guns! That's a change I'd say is pretty damn brilliant-!"

He cleared his throat, deciding maybe he was laying it on a little strong.

"And with uh- Neil... He's still a really great guy. I don't know how you remember him when he was... alive... but maybe it's worth it to... to get to know the new one..? Maybe.. Maybe this change doesn't have to be as "world ending" as you... as you think it is..?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith was silent for a moment, complaints right on the tip of his tongue. He wanted nothing but to wallow and whine and bitch at the top of his synthetic lungs about the shoddy craftsmanship of the new models, the way they could only walk if they were extra careful not to break the thin metal bearings that held them together- Everything seemed so degraded.

But as he took a deep breath, his optic glanced up at the other.

He was really trying his best to see things positively.. Where Keith remembered every little detail of how 'good' it had been... He only saw how it was now. Keith knew full well enough that he definitely didn't remember a thing about it. Just everything after the uploads had started...

Keith scrunched up into a ball for just a moment, every last joint in his body curled up real tight as he crouched down on the ground. He gave a loud growl, letting his frustrations vocalize for just a moment.

And then he popped back up, his faceplates flaring outwards slightly as he glared off towards Wheatley. He seemed focused specifically on one part of his head as he suddenly stepped forward, reaching upwards... He grabbed onto the handle attached to the poor man's head, pulling him down lightly but firmly to look at it on his own level.

"I'm the only one who knows how to craft these fucking bodies anymore... Let me loosen these so you can actually breathe," he said it gruffly, but clearly Wheatley had changed something- He wasn't on the verge of tearing himself apart.. It seemed more like he'd focused his energies on him now. Namely: fixing that shoddy design he'd been given.

Whether or not that was a good thing for Wheatley might have escaped him at this particular moment... but it seemed like he was successful in trying to get Keith to focus on the present.

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley had watched in a lot of concern as he saw the other slinking to the ground like that. His plates had flared a little, but the movement was rather constricted by those handles in the way. They lowered back behind him like the ears of a prey animal- he was rather nervous- maybe he wasn't doing a good enough job. He was never really good at giving pep rallies- none of the humans he used to take care of really cared for his words of encouragement before a test.

His own thoughts were quickly interrupted as his head instead filled with alarm. He yelped in fear at the sudden grippage on his oh so sensitive handle, a splutter coming from his vocal processor to maybe begin to plead for forgiveness, that he didn't mean whatever he said or did-

But stopped when there was no fist flying at his face or knee to his gut.

"A...ah- if... if that's what... you want... I think I... I think I can breath just, just fine, actually, but- not... not stopping you I guess- if. If this is what we're doing now-"

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith already had a screwdriver suited to his make in hand, staring at Wheatley's handle as he felt over it generously. He knew exactly how these came off. How to tighten and loosen them was nothing to him. It gave him something to fix.

"Good. Your model is horrible for this, restrains your entire face," he grumbled, already taking the screwdriver to a screw in the right side of his upper handle.

"Like no one thinks about how these things move. There's no hydraulics in here. It doesn't need restraining. It's fucking ludicrous. Do you even want the handles-?" the question came out of his complaining as he sat, rubbing his thumb over the center rubber on the handle where it was thickest.. He was solely focused on his task at hand, loosening those awful things on his core head.

[thefactualsphere]

"A-ah..- Aaaah-" he seemed a bit wobbly with his posture since his head had been being pulled in such a way- It sort of felt like a mother who was brushing your hair out but way too vigorously. There was no pain, but it was alot of jerking motions.

"I-- U-uhhg-" he didn't really know how to find his words. He was a bit stiff with his stance, his bottom optic lid closing upward in a confusing expression. It wasn't really easy to tell what he was feeling here.

"I uh... I dd...dunno..- I guess just- just what yy-youu wanna do..-"

He felt a little bit warmer- not too noticeably, but it was pooling a little in his face. Wheatley couldn't pin down where it was coming from- probably embarrassment. He wasn't used to being moved about like this.

[adventuregunsphere]

"I'll loosen it for now. We'll see about it later," he was curt, moving to do the same to the other handle as he again pulled on it to keep the taller android at his level. He didn't offer a chair or anything, not that there was one to offer. Wheatley had to crouch over a bit to get to where Keith wanted him...

He moved quickly, but he held onto the very center of his handle the whole time. Keith kept a tight grip on it as he unscrewed the other side just enough that Wheatley could wiggle it without damaging his hull.

"Must be standard procedure now... What a wonder. I bet they've swapped out for cheaper cores now too. Must be a thinner metal on those if they screwed it this tight... "

He kept working, switching to the lower handle and allowing Wheatley to stand up, even just slightly at the movement. His thumb kept rubbing at his handle, running over the grooves as he went. Still talking to himself all the way-

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith looked straight up, alert suddenly at the sound of knocking- He never really expected anyone to bother him while he was working.. like he just sort of got lost in it when he needed the relief this badly.

Wheatley was lucky he'd just finished putting on the last new bolts, or he might have gotten one thrown at his head.

He stared at the other for a moment, his eyes listlessly roving over his face.. His optic.. It felt weird to see him, when Keith was so certain he'd died. Whatever happened, he was torn on whether or not he wanted to know...

Keith nodded awkwardly, acknowledging him before he silently went back to screwing on a bolt he'd already tightened to perfection.. making himself look busy....

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley clearly took the invitation to step inside the garage. It was dusty, but it was clear Keith was already making use of the materials here. He glanced over to the old mower that he had taken apart and put back together again, seemingly impressed with how his handles twitched back.

"I see you've er. Made yourself useful! Not.. not that that was a requirement. I moreso just meant uh. Yeah it didn't come out right, did it? Ahah... what I meant was you're... keeping yourself busy. And all. I know first hand that it's not... the easiest adjusting to being back. Back here. With gravity and stuff more less."

He placed a hand on his neck, scratching it looking for things to say. Something that would make the bot feel better.

"When I was first ah. Fixed up and such. There wasn't much to do in the barn- I didn't like talking with all the er. Scary folks in there. Some tiny ones really liked the sounds of the radio when I could jangle it right- honestly there aren't as many stations as I could get to down here than when I was playing for you, hah..-! But I... made due. Apparently they didn't have access to a radio and- shoot... I uh... rambling... again- What I mean to say is I'm glad you got something to keep your mind on. Something to do with your hands."

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith hissed softly under his breath, getting up and hiding behind a shelf.. He searched through it, looking for nothing but the motion of rummaging through it to make himself look busy...

He still hadn't thought through how he felt about the blue eyed bot.

It was a complicated mix of frustrations.. He hadn't done anything wrong, in fact, he'd made it more barable-...and yet still Keith couldn't get rid of the gut reaction that hearing his voice rambling on instilled in him. It brought right back up how long they'd spent together up there, his voice the only thing that really tied him to anything at all.

He wanted to sit somewhere louder than this. He wanted to.. do something disgustingly affectionate.. Keith was relieved and angry and maybe just a little glad to see him... But he couldn't think straight enough to phrase any of it properly.

Keith could feel his hands shaking slightly at the pressure inside his mind, hardly able to conjure up any sort of thoughts past the tide of racing ones... He was still so unused to having control of his tongue, even if it was metaphorically now- His thoughts weren't any better.

[thefactualsphere]

"- I'm sure it's gonna be real useful with you around, seeing as you seem all technologically capable and- and..."

He stopped, finally looking up to meet his gaze. Unfortunately the guy wasn't an idiot. He saw the way he moved about, saw the shaky tension in his fingertips, the way his faux tendons clenched.

".....Oh."

Of course. Why would he try to barge in so soon? He was probably just trying not to be rude or something.. He TOLD him to just say something if he didn't want him here..!

It was unfortunate, too, how expressive he was. It was really frustrating how his handles fell back, how his lids shifted to show exactly how he felt- a little disappointment shifted to exaggerate his actual emotion.

"....If you want to talk, we.. I will be inside. Maybe try to come in later tonight..? I'm... not sure how chilly it'll... It'll be in here... right.. ahm..-"

He tried to make his way out, trying to step out the door without tripping on anything laying out.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith's faceplates clenched in on his hull, his body shivering as his hand clenched around a wrench..

Just as Wheatley had approached the door, on his way out.. Keith finally found his voice-

"How'd you survive?" he murmured it low, but his voice carried right through the echoing space to pierce his companion..

The combine had plucked Keith out of orbit, knocking Wheatley straight into the Earth's surface in the process... By all means, Keith had believed the other dead.

But that tone was so familiar to the other.. That low, shivering thing... guilt.

[thefactualsphere]

He stopped in his tracks, clearly frozen by the words that had been asked to him. He didn't... usually like thinking about it. In fact, he tried his hardest not to let that part of his return bother him- or try to not let it worm it's way back into that overactive head of his, lest he over think it into a frenzy.

He stepped back slowly into the garage, expression for some reason.... totally unreadable.

He turned slow to meet his gaze, trying to think if he should tell the truth or some lie to make things seem easier to swallow.

"I..... I didn't."

He kept still for a bit, almost like bracing himself for the words he needed to say.

"... When I crashed, I... didn't have a whole lot of time.. because of how many ah- warning lights were in my field of view I could... Make out that I probably wasn't going to make it..."

He laughed a little- desperate to try and make things seem light with this topic, but kind of failing. Pretty miserably really.

"Rick found me a few moments before I shut down- That... moment is a little fuzzy, since well- I'm pretty sure uh. All.. all my systems were shutting down. But I think I apologized... Yeah... For... for everything. I think I assumed there wouldn't be another chance uh... so..."

He cleared his throat.

"Rick found a mechanic in the city an hour away to fix me as... best as a human could in whatever year it is. Bloody hell, the guy brought me back to life! I didn't know that was even possible. Why, I had to of just been.... just been charred to bits I tell you..! Rick took me to the Amie down there to finish the job in the end..."

[adventuregunsphere]

It stung to hear.. Keith grimaced visibly, staring down at the odds and ends collected on the shelf in front of him.. He was hiding behind them, that was clear now, if it hadn't been before..

"You should give him my.. thanks, then," he managed to force out at last. It took a lot out of him to actually thank Rick.. But something had clearly.. changed. He didn't even respond to his earlier prodding like he used to... Sickeningly, Keith thought he might have to apologize to the guy..

That was another day's problem.

"It was my fault," he said quietly.. "I sent out coordinates.. It was all I could do. I didn't think something like that would come..."

Keith growled softly at the memory... Wheatley might have been spared a kindness not to know of what he went through..

Everything felt.. terrible. He felt weaker than he had ever been, shaking audibly now.. He couldn't even pretend to look through the parts on the shelf anymore. Wheatley could see the look about him, as if it took him everything not to fold in on himself right then and there. Everything was setting in now that he'd been fixed for a while...

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley frowned- or.. it was definitely obvious he was unhappy in some way with how his optic shifted.

"You....You did?" He muttered, seemingly a bit surprised.

"Hah... I uh... didn't know you could do that... Could I have done that too...? Maybe it... would have been more useful than radio shows..."

He was still trying to keep the conversation light, but that ship had sailed a good while ago. And he knew it.

Wheatley stepped forward, bottom lid lifting up to perhaps convey a soft, forgiving smile.

"Hey, Mate, its- it's alright. Y' didn't know who'd show- I uh... I kind of figured you couldn't respond to anything I said to ya, so it maybe helped just to... do ANYTHING up there."

He held a hand out, trying to coax him out from between those shelves.

"It might not of been what uh.. what you were hoping for.. But in the end, we both got out of there.... It's how er.. "fate", I like that word. That's how "Fate" worked out, yeah?"

He gave a nervous chuckle.

"And... adjusting to all this change will take a bit- hell, I'm still having a hard time of it- But... it'll probably be easier for ya with a companion, yeah..?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith gave a bark of a laugh, burying his optic in his palms as he tried desperately to stop the noises that wanted to come out of him. He hadn't been able to make anything but his corrupted ones in so long..

"I calculated them," he half laughed, "-whenever I had enough in me to hold it off and think for a fucking minute-"

His voice came out in a sorry state, his voicebox crackling and glitching.. But he was still speaking words.. Real words. Not just gibberish... Keith sounded just awful, really.. Like he couldn't stop himself from taking the first hand offered to him, even if just verbally yet..

"And.. I-" his voice crackled with heavy static.. "I came back and now it's all- just... Why're you the only thing that didn't change," he finally moaned, pulling at the faceplates in his hull much like one would pull at their hair.. He was too distracted, too averse to the idea of being touched to take Wheatley's hand yet.. Instead he seemed to shrink in on himself with all his miseries...

Such a competent figure, reduced to this.. Maybe he was still corrupted.. But he just couldn't find it anywhere in him to lash out at the other.. He meant well and Wheatley may as well have been the only thing, yet again, grounding him to everything..

[thefactualsphere]

He was silent again, really really trying to say the right things here. God it felt like a quick time event- like if he did the wrong thing everything here will come crumbling down. If he said the wrong words in the wrong order, maybe he'll be shoo'd out of here and he'll have done nothing but make it worse.

"We.... we were up there for.... a long time, Keith." He strayed on his words for a bit- he felt a bit terrified really about how sensitive this whole thing is. One wrong step...

"Change doesn't.... have to be a bad thing... I mean, Look at us-! We used to just be little metal balls that couldn't move without guidance or assistance but now-"

He gestured downward.

"We got legs! We can go wherever we want, whenever we want- And we have arms, so we don't have to be "ohh press that button ohhh pick up the gun" because WE can press the buttons! We can pick up the guns! That's a change I'd say is pretty damn brilliant-!"

He cleared his throat, deciding maybe he was laying it on a little strong.

"And with uh- Neil... He's still a really great guy. I don't know how you remember him when he was... alive... but maybe it's worth it to... to get to know the new one..? Maybe.. Maybe this change doesn't have to be as "world ending" as you... as you think it is..?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith was silent for a moment, complaints right on the tip of his tongue. He wanted nothing but to wallow and whine and bitch at the top of his synthetic lungs about the shoddy craftsmanship of the new models, the way they could only walk if they were extra careful not to break the thin metal bearings that held them together- Everything seemed so degraded.

But as he took a deep breath, his optic glanced up at the other.

He was really trying his best to see things positively.. Where Keith remembered every little detail of how 'good' it had been... He only saw how it was now. Keith knew full well enough that he definitely didn't remember a thing about it. Just everything after the uploads had started...

Keith scrunched up into a ball for just a moment, every last joint in his body curled up real tight as he crouched down on the ground. He gave a loud growl, letting his frustrations vocalize for just a moment.

And then he popped back up, his faceplates flaring outwards slightly as he glared off towards Wheatley. He seemed focused specifically on one part of his head as he suddenly stepped forward, reaching upwards... He grabbed onto the handle attached to the poor man's head, pulling him down lightly but firmly to look at it on his own level.

"I'm the only one who knows how to craft these fucking bodies anymore... Let me loosen these so you can actually breathe," he said it gruffly, but clearly Wheatley had changed something- He wasn't on the verge of tearing himself apart.. It seemed more like he'd focused his energies on him now. Namely: fixing that shoddy design he'd been given.

Whether or not that was a good thing for Wheatley might have escaped him at this particular moment... but it seemed like he was successful in trying to get Keith to focus on the present.

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley had watched in a lot of concern as he saw the other slinking to the ground like that. His plates had flared a little, but the movement was rather constricted by those handles in the way. They lowered back behind him like the ears of a prey animal- he was rather nervous- maybe he wasn't doing a good enough job. He was never really good at giving pep rallies- none of the humans he used to take care of really cared for his words of encouragement before a test.

His own thoughts were quickly interrupted as his head instead filled with alarm. He yelped in fear at the sudden grippage on his oh so sensitive handle, a splutter coming from his vocal processor to maybe begin to plead for forgiveness, that he didn't mean whatever he said or did-

But stopped when there was no fist flying at his face or knee to his gut.

"A...ah- if... if that's what... you want... I think I... I think I can breath just, just fine, actually, but- not... not stopping you I guess- if. If this is what we're doing now-"

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith already had a screwdriver suited to his make in hand, staring at Wheatley's handle as he felt over it generously. He knew exactly how these came off. How to tighten and loosen them was nothing to him. It gave him something to fix.

"Good. Your model is horrible for this, restrains your entire face," he grumbled, already taking the screwdriver to a screw in the right side of his upper handle.

"Like no one thinks about how these things move. There's no hydraulics in here. It doesn't need restraining. It's fucking ludicrous. Do you even want the handles-?" the question came out of his complaining as he sat, rubbing his thumb over the center rubber on the handle where it was thickest.. He was solely focused on his task at hand, loosening those awful things on his core head.

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith looked straight up, alert suddenly at the sound of knocking- He never really expected anyone to bother him while he was working.. like he just sort of got lost in it when he needed the relief this badly.

Wheatley was lucky he'd just finished putting on the last new bolts, or he might have gotten one thrown at his head.

He stared at the other for a moment, his eyes listlessly roving over his face.. His optic.. It felt weird to see him, when Keith was so certain he'd died. Whatever happened, he was torn on whether or not he wanted to know...

Keith nodded awkwardly, acknowledging him before he silently went back to screwing on a bolt he'd already tightened to perfection.. making himself look busy....

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley clearly took the invitation to step inside the garage. It was dusty, but it was clear Keith was already making use of the materials here. He glanced over to the old mower that he had taken apart and put back together again, seemingly impressed with how his handles twitched back.

"I see you've er. Made yourself useful! Not.. not that that was a requirement. I moreso just meant uh. Yeah it didn't come out right, did it? Ahah... what I meant was you're... keeping yourself busy. And all. I know first hand that it's not... the easiest adjusting to being back. Back here. With gravity and stuff more less."

He placed a hand on his neck, scratching it looking for things to say. Something that would make the bot feel better.

"When I was first ah. Fixed up and such. There wasn't much to do in the barn- I didn't like talking with all the er. Scary folks in there. Some tiny ones really liked the sounds of the radio when I could jangle it right- honestly there aren't as many stations as I could get to down here than when I was playing for you, hah..-! But I... made due. Apparently they didn't have access to a radio and- shoot... I uh... rambling... again- What I mean to say is I'm glad you got something to keep your mind on. Something to do with your hands."

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith hissed softly under his breath, getting up and hiding behind a shelf.. He searched through it, looking for nothing but the motion of rummaging through it to make himself look busy...

He still hadn't thought through how he felt about the blue eyed bot.

It was a complicated mix of frustrations.. He hadn't done anything wrong, in fact, he'd made it more barable-...and yet still Keith couldn't get rid of the gut reaction that hearing his voice rambling on instilled in him. It brought right back up how long they'd spent together up there, his voice the only thing that really tied him to anything at all.

He wanted to sit somewhere louder than this. He wanted to.. do something disgustingly affectionate.. Keith was relieved and angry and maybe just a little glad to see him... But he couldn't think straight enough to phrase any of it properly.

Keith could feel his hands shaking slightly at the pressure inside his mind, hardly able to conjure up any sort of thoughts past the tide of racing ones... He was still so unused to having control of his tongue, even if it was metaphorically now- His thoughts weren't any better.

[thefactualsphere]

"- I'm sure it's gonna be real useful with you around, seeing as you seem all technologically capable and- and..."

He stopped, finally looking up to meet his gaze. Unfortunately the guy wasn't an idiot. He saw the way he moved about, saw the shaky tension in his fingertips, the way his faux tendons clenched.

".....Oh."

Of course. Why would he try to barge in so soon? He was probably just trying not to be rude or something.. He TOLD him to just say something if he didn't want him here..!

It was unfortunate, too, how expressive he was. It was really frustrating how his handles fell back, how his lids shifted to show exactly how he felt- a little disappointment shifted to exaggerate his actual emotion.

"....If you want to talk, we.. I will be inside. Maybe try to come in later tonight..? I'm... not sure how chilly it'll... It'll be in here... right.. ahm..-"

He tried to make his way out, trying to step out the door without tripping on anything laying out.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith's faceplates clenched in on his hull, his body shivering as his hand clenched around a wrench..

Just as Wheatley had approached the door, on his way out.. Keith finally found his voice-

"How'd you survive?" he murmured it low, but his voice carried right through the echoing space to pierce his companion..

The combine had plucked Keith out of orbit, knocking Wheatley straight into the Earth's surface in the process... By all means, Keith had believed the other dead.

But that tone was so familiar to the other.. That low, shivering thing... guilt.

[thefactualsphere]

He stopped in his tracks, clearly frozen by the words that had been asked to him. He didn't... usually like thinking about it. In fact, he tried his hardest not to let that part of his return bother him- or try to not let it worm it's way back into that overactive head of his, lest he over think it into a frenzy.

He stepped back slowly into the garage, expression for some reason.... totally unreadable.

He turned slow to meet his gaze, trying to think if he should tell the truth or some lie to make things seem easier to swallow.

"I..... I didn't."

He kept still for a bit, almost like bracing himself for the words he needed to say.

"... When I crashed, I... didn't have a whole lot of time.. because of how many ah- warning lights were in my field of view I could... Make out that I probably wasn't going to make it..."

He laughed a little- desperate to try and make things seem light with this topic, but kind of failing. Pretty miserably really.

"Rick found me a few moments before I shut down- That... moment is a little fuzzy, since well- I'm pretty sure uh. All.. all my systems were shutting down. But I think I apologized... Yeah... For... for everything. I think I assumed there wouldn't be another chance uh... so..."

He cleared his throat.

"Rick found a mechanic in the city an hour away to fix me as... best as a human could in whatever year it is. Bloody hell, the guy brought me back to life! I didn't know that was even possible. Why, I had to of just been.... just been charred to bits I tell you..! Rick took me to the Amie down there to finish the job in the end..."

[adventuregunsphere]

It stung to hear.. Keith grimaced visibly, staring down at the odds and ends collected on the shelf in front of him.. He was hiding behind them, that was clear now, if it hadn't been before..

"You should give him my.. thanks, then," he managed to force out at last. It took a lot out of him to actually thank Rick.. But something had clearly.. changed. He didn't even respond to his earlier prodding like he used to... Sickeningly, Keith thought he might have to apologize to the guy..

That was another day's problem.

"It was my fault," he said quietly.. "I sent out coordinates.. It was all I could do. I didn't think something like that would come..."

Keith growled softly at the memory... Wheatley might have been spared a kindness not to know of what he went through..

Everything felt.. terrible. He felt weaker than he had ever been, shaking audibly now.. He couldn't even pretend to look through the parts on the shelf anymore. Wheatley could see the look about him, as if it took him everything not to fold in on himself right then and there. Everything was setting in now that he'd been fixed for a while...

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley frowned- or.. it was definitely obvious he was unhappy in some way with how his optic shifted.

"You....You did?" He muttered, seemingly a bit surprised.

"Hah... I uh... didn't know you could do that... Could I have done that too...? Maybe it... would have been more useful than radio shows..."

He was still trying to keep the conversation light, but that ship had sailed a good while ago. And he knew it.

Wheatley stepped forward, bottom lid lifting up to perhaps convey a soft, forgiving smile.

"Hey, Mate, its- it's alright. Y' didn't know who'd show- I uh... I kind of figured you couldn't respond to anything I said to ya, so it maybe helped just to... do ANYTHING up there."

He held a hand out, trying to coax him out from between those shelves.

"It might not of been what uh.. what you were hoping for.. But in the end, we both got out of there.... It's how er.. "fate", I like that word. That's how "Fate" worked out, yeah?"

He gave a nervous chuckle.

"And... adjusting to all this change will take a bit- hell, I'm still having a hard time of it- But... it'll probably be easier for ya with a companion, yeah..?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith gave a bark of a laugh, burying his optic in his palms as he tried desperately to stop the noises that wanted to come out of him. He hadn't been able to make anything but his corrupted ones in so long..

"I calculated them," he half laughed, "-whenever I had enough in me to hold it off and think for a fucking minute-"

His voice came out in a sorry state, his voicebox crackling and glitching.. But he was still speaking words.. Real words. Not just gibberish... Keith sounded just awful, really.. Like he couldn't stop himself from taking the first hand offered to him, even if just verbally yet..

"And.. I-" his voice crackled with heavy static.. "I came back and now it's all- just... Why're you the only thing that didn't change," he finally moaned, pulling at the faceplates in his hull much like one would pull at their hair.. He was too distracted, too averse to the idea of being touched to take Wheatley's hand yet.. Instead he seemed to shrink in on himself with all his miseries...

Such a competent figure, reduced to this.. Maybe he was still corrupted.. But he just couldn't find it anywhere in him to lash out at the other.. He meant well and Wheatley may as well have been the only thing, yet again, grounding him to everything..

[thefactualsphere]

He was silent again, really really trying to say the right things here. God it felt like a quick time event- like if he did the wrong thing everything here will come crumbling down. If he said the wrong words in the wrong order, maybe he'll be shoo'd out of here and he'll have done nothing but make it worse.

"We.... we were up there for.... a long time, Keith." He strayed on his words for a bit- he felt a bit terrified really about how sensitive this whole thing is. One wrong step...

"Change doesn't.... have to be a bad thing... I mean, Look at us-! We used to just be little metal balls that couldn't move without guidance or assistance but now-"

He gestured downward.

"We got legs! We can go wherever we want, whenever we want- And we have arms, so we don't have to be "ohh press that button ohhh pick up the gun" because WE can press the buttons! We can pick up the guns! That's a change I'd say is pretty damn brilliant-!"

He cleared his throat, deciding maybe he was laying it on a little strong.

"And with uh- Neil... He's still a really great guy. I don't know how you remember him when he was... alive... but maybe it's worth it to... to get to know the new one..? Maybe.. Maybe this change doesn't have to be as "world ending" as you... as you think it is..?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith was silent for a moment, complaints right on the tip of his tongue. He wanted nothing but to wallow and whine and bitch at the top of his synthetic lungs about the shoddy craftsmanship of the new models, the way they could only walk if they were extra careful not to break the thin metal bearings that held them together- Everything seemed so degraded.

But as he took a deep breath, his optic glanced up at the other.

He was really trying his best to see things positively.. Where Keith remembered every little detail of how 'good' it had been... He only saw how it was now. Keith knew full well enough that he definitely didn't remember a thing about it. Just everything after the uploads had started...

Keith scrunched up into a ball for just a moment, every last joint in his body curled up real tight as he crouched down on the ground. He gave a loud growl, letting his frustrations vocalize for just a moment.

And then he popped back up, his faceplates flaring outwards slightly as he glared off towards Wheatley. He seemed focused specifically on one part of his head as he suddenly stepped forward, reaching upwards... He grabbed onto the handle attached to the poor man's head, pulling him down lightly but firmly to look at it on his own level.

"I'm the only one who knows how to craft these fucking bodies anymore... Let me loosen these so you can actually breathe," he said it gruffly, but clearly Wheatley had changed something- He wasn't on the verge of tearing himself apart.. It seemed more like he'd focused his energies on him now. Namely: fixing that shoddy design he'd been given.

Whether or not that was a good thing for Wheatley might have escaped him at this particular moment... but it seemed like he was successful in trying to get Keith to focus on the present.

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith looked straight up, alert suddenly at the sound of knocking- He never really expected anyone to bother him while he was working.. like he just sort of got lost in it when he needed the relief this badly.

Wheatley was lucky he'd just finished putting on the last new bolts, or he might have gotten one thrown at his head.

He stared at the other for a moment, his eyes listlessly roving over his face.. His optic.. It felt weird to see him, when Keith was so certain he'd died. Whatever happened, he was torn on whether or not he wanted to know...

Keith nodded awkwardly, acknowledging him before he silently went back to screwing on a bolt he'd already tightened to perfection.. making himself look busy....

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley clearly took the invitation to step inside the garage. It was dusty, but it was clear Keith was already making use of the materials here. He glanced over to the old mower that he had taken apart and put back together again, seemingly impressed with how his handles twitched back.

"I see you've er. Made yourself useful! Not.. not that that was a requirement. I moreso just meant uh. Yeah it didn't come out right, did it? Ahah... what I meant was you're... keeping yourself busy. And all. I know first hand that it's not... the easiest adjusting to being back. Back here. With gravity and stuff more less."

He placed a hand on his neck, scratching it looking for things to say. Something that would make the bot feel better.

"When I was first ah. Fixed up and such. There wasn't much to do in the barn- I didn't like talking with all the er. Scary folks in there. Some tiny ones really liked the sounds of the radio when I could jangle it right- honestly there aren't as many stations as I could get to down here than when I was playing for you, hah..-! But I... made due. Apparently they didn't have access to a radio and- shoot... I uh... rambling... again- What I mean to say is I'm glad you got something to keep your mind on. Something to do with your hands."

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith hissed softly under his breath, getting up and hiding behind a shelf.. He searched through it, looking for nothing but the motion of rummaging through it to make himself look busy...

He still hadn't thought through how he felt about the blue eyed bot.

It was a complicated mix of frustrations.. He hadn't done anything wrong, in fact, he'd made it more barable-...and yet still Keith couldn't get rid of the gut reaction that hearing his voice rambling on instilled in him. It brought right back up how long they'd spent together up there, his voice the only thing that really tied him to anything at all.

He wanted to sit somewhere louder than this. He wanted to.. do something disgustingly affectionate.. Keith was relieved and angry and maybe just a little glad to see him... But he couldn't think straight enough to phrase any of it properly.

Keith could feel his hands shaking slightly at the pressure inside his mind, hardly able to conjure up any sort of thoughts past the tide of racing ones... He was still so unused to having control of his tongue, even if it was metaphorically now- His thoughts weren't any better.

[thefactualsphere]

"- I'm sure it's gonna be real useful with you around, seeing as you seem all technologically capable and- and..."

He stopped, finally looking up to meet his gaze. Unfortunately the guy wasn't an idiot. He saw the way he moved about, saw the shaky tension in his fingertips, the way his faux tendons clenched.

".....Oh."

Of course. Why would he try to barge in so soon? He was probably just trying not to be rude or something.. He TOLD him to just say something if he didn't want him here..!

It was unfortunate, too, how expressive he was. It was really frustrating how his handles fell back, how his lids shifted to show exactly how he felt- a little disappointment shifted to exaggerate his actual emotion.

"....If you want to talk, we.. I will be inside. Maybe try to come in later tonight..? I'm... not sure how chilly it'll... It'll be in here... right.. ahm..-"

He tried to make his way out, trying to step out the door without tripping on anything laying out.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith's faceplates clenched in on his hull, his body shivering as his hand clenched around a wrench..

Just as Wheatley had approached the door, on his way out.. Keith finally found his voice-

"How'd you survive?" he murmured it low, but his voice carried right through the echoing space to pierce his companion..

The combine had plucked Keith out of orbit, knocking Wheatley straight into the Earth's surface in the process... By all means, Keith had believed the other dead.

But that tone was so familiar to the other.. That low, shivering thing... guilt.

[thefactualsphere]

He stopped in his tracks, clearly frozen by the words that had been asked to him. He didn't... usually like thinking about it. In fact, he tried his hardest not to let that part of his return bother him- or try to not let it worm it's way back into that overactive head of his, lest he over think it into a frenzy.

He stepped back slowly into the garage, expression for some reason.... totally unreadable.

He turned slow to meet his gaze, trying to think if he should tell the truth or some lie to make things seem easier to swallow.

"I..... I didn't."

He kept still for a bit, almost like bracing himself for the words he needed to say.

"... When I crashed, I... didn't have a whole lot of time.. because of how many ah- warning lights were in my field of view I could... Make out that I probably wasn't going to make it..."

He laughed a little- desperate to try and make things seem light with this topic, but kind of failing. Pretty miserably really.

"Rick found me a few moments before I shut down- That... moment is a little fuzzy, since well- I'm pretty sure uh. All.. all my systems were shutting down. But I think I apologized... Yeah... For... for everything. I think I assumed there wouldn't be another chance uh... so..."

He cleared his throat.

"Rick found a mechanic in the city an hour away to fix me as... best as a human could in whatever year it is. Bloody hell, the guy brought me back to life! I didn't know that was even possible. Why, I had to of just been.... just been charred to bits I tell you..! Rick took me to the Amie down there to finish the job in the end..."

[adventuregunsphere]

It stung to hear.. Keith grimaced visibly, staring down at the odds and ends collected on the shelf in front of him.. He was hiding behind them, that was clear now, if it hadn't been before..

"You should give him my.. thanks, then," he managed to force out at last. It took a lot out of him to actually thank Rick.. But something had clearly.. changed. He didn't even respond to his earlier prodding like he used to... Sickeningly, Keith thought he might have to apologize to the guy..

That was another day's problem.

"It was my fault," he said quietly.. "I sent out coordinates.. It was all I could do. I didn't think something like that would come..."

Keith growled softly at the memory... Wheatley might have been spared a kindness not to know of what he went through..

Everything felt.. terrible. He felt weaker than he had ever been, shaking audibly now.. He couldn't even pretend to look through the parts on the shelf anymore. Wheatley could see the look about him, as if it took him everything not to fold in on himself right then and there. Everything was setting in now that he'd been fixed for a while...

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley frowned- or.. it was definitely obvious he was unhappy in some way with how his optic shifted.

"You....You did?" He muttered, seemingly a bit surprised.

"Hah... I uh... didn't know you could do that... Could I have done that too...? Maybe it... would have been more useful than radio shows..."

He was still trying to keep the conversation light, but that ship had sailed a good while ago. And he knew it.

Wheatley stepped forward, bottom lid lifting up to perhaps convey a soft, forgiving smile.

"Hey, Mate, its- it's alright. Y' didn't know who'd show- I uh... I kind of figured you couldn't respond to anything I said to ya, so it maybe helped just to... do ANYTHING up there."

He held a hand out, trying to coax him out from between those shelves.

"It might not of been what uh.. what you were hoping for.. But in the end, we both got out of there.... It's how er.. "fate", I like that word. That's how "Fate" worked out, yeah?"

He gave a nervous chuckle.

"And... adjusting to all this change will take a bit- hell, I'm still having a hard time of it- But... it'll probably be easier for ya with a companion, yeah..?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith gave a bark of a laugh, burying his optic in his palms as he tried desperately to stop the noises that wanted to come out of him. He hadn't been able to make anything but his corrupted ones in so long..

"I calculated them," he half laughed, "-whenever I had enough in me to hold it off and think for a fucking minute-"

His voice came out in a sorry state, his voicebox crackling and glitching.. But he was still speaking words.. Real words. Not just gibberish... Keith sounded just awful, really.. Like he couldn't stop himself from taking the first hand offered to him, even if just verbally yet..

"And.. I-" his voice crackled with heavy static.. "I came back and now it's all- just... Why're you the only thing that didn't change," he finally moaned, pulling at the faceplates in his hull much like one would pull at their hair.. He was too distracted, too averse to the idea of being touched to take Wheatley's hand yet.. Instead he seemed to shrink in on himself with all his miseries...

Such a competent figure, reduced to this.. Maybe he was still corrupted.. But he just couldn't find it anywhere in him to lash out at the other.. He meant well and Wheatley may as well have been the only thing, yet again, grounding him to everything..

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith looked straight up, alert suddenly at the sound of knocking- He never really expected anyone to bother him while he was working.. like he just sort of got lost in it when he needed the relief this badly.

Wheatley was lucky he'd just finished putting on the last new bolts, or he might have gotten one thrown at his head.

He stared at the other for a moment, his eyes listlessly roving over his face.. His optic.. It felt weird to see him, when Keith was so certain he'd died. Whatever happened, he was torn on whether or not he wanted to know...

Keith nodded awkwardly, acknowledging him before he silently went back to screwing on a bolt he'd already tightened to perfection.. making himself look busy....

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley clearly took the invitation to step inside the garage. It was dusty, but it was clear Keith was already making use of the materials here. He glanced over to the old mower that he had taken apart and put back together again, seemingly impressed with how his handles twitched back.

"I see you've er. Made yourself useful! Not.. not that that was a requirement. I moreso just meant uh. Yeah it didn't come out right, did it? Ahah... what I meant was you're... keeping yourself busy. And all. I know first hand that it's not... the easiest adjusting to being back. Back here. With gravity and stuff more less."

He placed a hand on his neck, scratching it looking for things to say. Something that would make the bot feel better.

"When I was first ah. Fixed up and such. There wasn't much to do in the barn- I didn't like talking with all the er. Scary folks in there. Some tiny ones really liked the sounds of the radio when I could jangle it right- honestly there aren't as many stations as I could get to down here than when I was playing for you, hah..-! But I... made due. Apparently they didn't have access to a radio and- shoot... I uh... rambling... again- What I mean to say is I'm glad you got something to keep your mind on. Something to do with your hands."

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith hissed softly under his breath, getting up and hiding behind a shelf.. He searched through it, looking for nothing but the motion of rummaging through it to make himself look busy...

He still hadn't thought through how he felt about the blue eyed bot.

It was a complicated mix of frustrations.. He hadn't done anything wrong, in fact, he'd made it more barable-...and yet still Keith couldn't get rid of the gut reaction that hearing his voice rambling on instilled in him. It brought right back up how long they'd spent together up there, his voice the only thing that really tied him to anything at all.

He wanted to sit somewhere louder than this. He wanted to.. do something disgustingly affectionate.. Keith was relieved and angry and maybe just a little glad to see him... But he couldn't think straight enough to phrase any of it properly.

Keith could feel his hands shaking slightly at the pressure inside his mind, hardly able to conjure up any sort of thoughts past the tide of racing ones... He was still so unused to having control of his tongue, even if it was metaphorically now- His thoughts weren't any better.

[thefactualsphere]

"- I'm sure it's gonna be real useful with you around, seeing as you seem all technologically capable and- and..."

He stopped, finally looking up to meet his gaze. Unfortunately the guy wasn't an idiot. He saw the way he moved about, saw the shaky tension in his fingertips, the way his faux tendons clenched.

".....Oh."

Of course. Why would he try to barge in so soon? He was probably just trying not to be rude or something.. He TOLD him to just say something if he didn't want him here..!

It was unfortunate, too, how expressive he was. It was really frustrating how his handles fell back, how his lids shifted to show exactly how he felt- a little disappointment shifted to exaggerate his actual emotion.

"....If you want to talk, we.. I will be inside. Maybe try to come in later tonight..? I'm... not sure how chilly it'll... It'll be in here... right.. ahm..-"

He tried to make his way out, trying to step out the door without tripping on anything laying out.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith's faceplates clenched in on his hull, his body shivering as his hand clenched around a wrench..

Just as Wheatley had approached the door, on his way out.. Keith finally found his voice-

"How'd you survive?" he murmured it low, but his voice carried right through the echoing space to pierce his companion..

The combine had plucked Keith out of orbit, knocking Wheatley straight into the Earth's surface in the process... By all means, Keith had believed the other dead.

But that tone was so familiar to the other.. That low, shivering thing... guilt.

[thefactualsphere]

He stopped in his tracks, clearly frozen by the words that had been asked to him. He didn't... usually like thinking about it. In fact, he tried his hardest not to let that part of his return bother him- or try to not let it worm it's way back into that overactive head of his, lest he over think it into a frenzy.

He stepped back slowly into the garage, expression for some reason.... totally unreadable.

He turned slow to meet his gaze, trying to think if he should tell the truth or some lie to make things seem easier to swallow.

"I..... I didn't."

He kept still for a bit, almost like bracing himself for the words he needed to say.

"... When I crashed, I... didn't have a whole lot of time.. because of how many ah- warning lights were in my field of view I could... Make out that I probably wasn't going to make it..."

He laughed a little- desperate to try and make things seem light with this topic, but kind of failing. Pretty miserably really.

"Rick found me a few moments before I shut down- That... moment is a little fuzzy, since well- I'm pretty sure uh. All.. all my systems were shutting down. But I think I apologized... Yeah... For... for everything. I think I assumed there wouldn't be another chance uh... so..."

He cleared his throat.

"Rick found a mechanic in the city an hour away to fix me as... best as a human could in whatever year it is. Bloody hell, the guy brought me back to life! I didn't know that was even possible. Why, I had to of just been.... just been charred to bits I tell you..! Rick took me to the Amie down there to finish the job in the end..."

[adventuregunsphere]

It stung to hear.. Keith grimaced visibly, staring down at the odds and ends collected on the shelf in front of him.. He was hiding behind them, that was clear now, if it hadn't been before..

"You should give him my.. thanks, then," he managed to force out at last. It took a lot out of him to actually thank Rick.. But something had clearly.. changed. He didn't even respond to his earlier prodding like he used to... Sickeningly, Keith thought he might have to apologize to the guy..

That was another day's problem.

"It was my fault," he said quietly.. "I sent out coordinates.. It was all I could do. I didn't think something like that would come..."

Keith growled softly at the memory... Wheatley might have been spared a kindness not to know of what he went through..

Everything felt.. terrible. He felt weaker than he had ever been, shaking audibly now.. He couldn't even pretend to look through the parts on the shelf anymore. Wheatley could see the look about him, as if it took him everything not to fold in on himself right then and there. Everything was setting in now that he'd been fixed for a while...

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith looked straight up, alert suddenly at the sound of knocking- He never really expected anyone to bother him while he was working.. like he just sort of got lost in it when he needed the relief this badly.

Wheatley was lucky he'd just finished putting on the last new bolts, or he might have gotten one thrown at his head.

He stared at the other for a moment, his eyes listlessly roving over his face.. His optic.. It felt weird to see him, when Keith was so certain he'd died. Whatever happened, he was torn on whether or not he wanted to know...

Keith nodded awkwardly, acknowledging him before he silently went back to screwing on a bolt he'd already tightened to perfection.. making himself look busy....

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley clearly took the invitation to step inside the garage. It was dusty, but it was clear Keith was already making use of the materials here. He glanced over to the old mower that he had taken apart and put back together again, seemingly impressed with how his handles twitched back.

"I see you've er. Made yourself useful! Not.. not that that was a requirement. I moreso just meant uh. Yeah it didn't come out right, did it? Ahah... what I meant was you're... keeping yourself busy. And all. I know first hand that it's not... the easiest adjusting to being back. Back here. With gravity and stuff more less."

He placed a hand on his neck, scratching it looking for things to say. Something that would make the bot feel better.

"When I was first ah. Fixed up and such. There wasn't much to do in the barn- I didn't like talking with all the er. Scary folks in there. Some tiny ones really liked the sounds of the radio when I could jangle it right- honestly there aren't as many stations as I could get to down here than when I was playing for you, hah..-! But I... made due. Apparently they didn't have access to a radio and- shoot... I uh... rambling... again- What I mean to say is I'm glad you got something to keep your mind on. Something to do with your hands."

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith hissed softly under his breath, getting up and hiding behind a shelf.. He searched through it, looking for nothing but the motion of rummaging through it to make himself look busy...

He still hadn't thought through how he felt about the blue eyed bot.

It was a complicated mix of frustrations.. He hadn't done anything wrong, in fact, he'd made it more barable-...and yet still Keith couldn't get rid of the gut reaction that hearing his voice rambling on instilled in him. It brought right back up how long they'd spent together up there, his voice the only thing that really tied him to anything at all.

He wanted to sit somewhere louder than this. He wanted to.. do something disgustingly affectionate.. Keith was relieved and angry and maybe just a little glad to see him... But he couldn't think straight enough to phrase any of it properly.

Keith could feel his hands shaking slightly at the pressure inside his mind, hardly able to conjure up any sort of thoughts past the tide of racing ones... He was still so unused to having control of his tongue, even if it was metaphorically now- His thoughts weren't any better.

[thefactualsphere]

"- I'm sure it's gonna be real useful with you around, seeing as you seem all technologically capable and- and..."

He stopped, finally looking up to meet his gaze. Unfortunately the guy wasn't an idiot. He saw the way he moved about, saw the shaky tension in his fingertips, the way his faux tendons clenched.

".....Oh."

Of course. Why would he try to barge in so soon? He was probably just trying not to be rude or something.. He TOLD him to just say something if he didn't want him here..!

It was unfortunate, too, how expressive he was. It was really frustrating how his handles fell back, how his lids shifted to show exactly how he felt- a little disappointment shifted to exaggerate his actual emotion.

"....If you want to talk, we.. I will be inside. Maybe try to come in later tonight..? I'm... not sure how chilly it'll... It'll be in here... right.. ahm..-"

He tried to make his way out, trying to step out the door without tripping on anything laying out.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith's faceplates clenched in on his hull, his body shivering as his hand clenched around a wrench..

Just as Wheatley had approached the door, on his way out.. Keith finally found his voice-

"How'd you survive?" he murmured it low, but his voice carried right through the echoing space to pierce his companion..

The combine had plucked Keith out of orbit, knocking Wheatley straight into the Earth's surface in the process... By all means, Keith had believed the other dead.

But that tone was so familiar to the other.. That low, shivering thing... guilt.

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith looked straight up, alert suddenly at the sound of knocking- He never really expected anyone to bother him while he was working.. like he just sort of got lost in it when he needed the relief this badly.

Wheatley was lucky he'd just finished putting on the last new bolts, or he might have gotten one thrown at his head.

He stared at the other for a moment, his eyes listlessly roving over his face.. His optic.. It felt weird to see him, when Keith was so certain he'd died. Whatever happened, he was torn on whether or not he wanted to know...

Keith nodded awkwardly, acknowledging him before he silently went back to screwing on a bolt he'd already tightened to perfection.. making himself look busy....

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley clearly took the invitation to step inside the garage. It was dusty, but it was clear Keith was already making use of the materials here. He glanced over to the old mower that he had taken apart and put back together again, seemingly impressed with how his handles twitched back.

"I see you've er. Made yourself useful! Not.. not that that was a requirement. I moreso just meant uh. Yeah it didn't come out right, did it? Ahah... what I meant was you're... keeping yourself busy. And all. I know first hand that it's not... the easiest adjusting to being back. Back here. With gravity and stuff more less."

He placed a hand on his neck, scratching it looking for things to say. Something that would make the bot feel better.

"When I was first ah. Fixed up and such. There wasn't much to do in the barn- I didn't like talking with all the er. Scary folks in there. Some tiny ones really liked the sounds of the radio when I could jangle it right- honestly there aren't as many stations as I could get to down here than when I was playing for you, hah..-! But I... made due. Apparently they didn't have access to a radio and- shoot... I uh... rambling... again- What I mean to say is I'm glad you got something to keep your mind on. Something to do with your hands."

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith hissed softly under his breath, getting up and hiding behind a shelf.. He searched through it, looking for nothing but the motion of rummaging through it to make himself look busy...

He still hadn't thought through how he felt about the blue eyed bot.

It was a complicated mix of frustrations.. He hadn't done anything wrong, in fact, he'd made it more barable-...and yet still Keith couldn't get rid of the gut reaction that hearing his voice rambling on instilled in him. It brought right back up how long they'd spent together up there, his voice the only thing that really tied him to anything at all.

He wanted to sit somewhere louder than this. He wanted to.. do something disgustingly affectionate.. Keith was relieved and angry and maybe just a little glad to see him... But he couldn't think straight enough to phrase any of it properly.

Keith could feel his hands shaking slightly at the pressure inside his mind, hardly able to conjure up any sort of thoughts past the tide of racing ones... He was still so unused to having control of his tongue, even if it was metaphorically now- His thoughts weren't any better.

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith looked straight up, alert suddenly at the sound of knocking- He never really expected anyone to bother him while he was working.. like he just sort of got lost in it when he needed the relief this badly.

Wheatley was lucky he'd just finished putting on the last new bolts, or he might have gotten one thrown at his head.

He stared at the other for a moment, his eyes listlessly roving over his face.. His optic.. It felt weird to see him, when Keith was so certain he'd died. Whatever happened, he was torn on whether or not he wanted to know...

Keith nodded awkwardly, acknowledging him before he silently went back to screwing on a bolt he'd already tightened to perfection.. making himself look busy....

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[thefactualsphere]

Neil thought it over. Yeah... yeah he would really like it if Rick finally had something to keep him busy. Maybe then he wouldn't be taking off and getting himself hurt all the damn time. He knows Wheatley would like that too. And there's some room out there for that damn alien to run around once it's grown some more.

Wheatley walked in after Rick, probably blabbering about their own ideas of what would make this place a home. And surprisingly.... Keith would get his wish a bit sooner.

Once the others had walked in a bit later, Neil awkwardly walked up to the newer member and cleared his throat. He was definitely embarassed to do this, and was taking more effort than a regular person might- but he glanced away, hand on the back of his neck.

"..... I suppose I owe you... an.... Appology." He coughed, hating to have to even admit he was in the wrong ever.

"I know we....... got off on the wrong foot pretty much fucking immediately. I'd like to blame it that we were both just tense and... didn't have anywhere for it to go. I'd really hate for that to be my ahem.... first impression, so... is.... it alright if we just start over...?"

His cheeks were a bit red- This egotistical loser was totally embarassed with himself.

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick and Wheatley went further into the house, Rick looking for rooms to see what all they had to work with and pulling Wheats along with him to give Neil some time with the new core..

"Neil- I- " Keith blinked, the words catching up to him just a moment after Neil had finished. He'd had this all planned out. He'd had a whole slurry of words to give to Neil, to apologize and make note of how truly awful he felt that he'd insulted the other- and more.. but...

"First impression.. I- We know each other- "

Keith suddenly seemed at a loss, his faceplates tightening into the hull of his head..

"You remember me. We worked together for years.. you're not corrupted that badly- " He tried to laugh it off like it was a bad joke, but somewhere deep down he sort of.. had a feeling.. His hands were shaking as he motioned in the air.. His voice grew tighter, crackling as he went on with no positive signs from the other..

"I know I was.. unwell for a while, a few years at my guess- It's me.. Keith? We both worked on the core upload process.. ? "

[thefactualsphere]

Neil bristled a bit - not from an anger or anything, but... more so anxiety. Neil had spent alot of effort working himself up to even appologize, and now things were being spun for a total loop.

"....I... I guess that could be the case..."

He spoke cautiously, almost overwhelmed with confusion and slight nerves.

"Keith, huh...? That's... It might be a bit... familiar.."

It's almost like he was really trying to monitor what he was saying.

"....Truth be told I.... don't... remember much from before all this... I remember bits and details from a few uploads I did... Mostly just... screaming. Did I do yours too...?"

[adventuregunsphere]

"Of course not-" he snapped.. "Royales completed my transfer-" Despite his tone, it was a little easy to believe he simply sounded that way.. Especially as his face fell a little, his optic facing the floor.. Keith studied his feet, too shocked to properly think of a response for a moment..

Lots of ideas rolled through his mind.. Some sort of sabatouge, a mistake in the macheinery- betrayal even.. He'd looked forward to his old friend, thinking it some sort of luck after the agonies he'd gone through for so long. Trapped in his mind, trapped with that babbling fool... He'd thought that finally, his luck had turned for the better.

"We broke that coffee maker that.. that one time- we were partners in the robotics department.."

"We had our lunch breaks together- I was there when you joined the company-" His voice sharpened, tinged with anger but.. it was misplaced, not aimed towards Neil, but it sounded accusatory.. "You don't remember any of that-?"

[thefactualsphere]

He was frozen in headlights now, eyes flickering and shining a bit brighter with just how *panicked* he was with this sudden confrontation. He didn't usually like thinking about how much he was missing, so this was really not making him feel too great.

His jaw was clenched, fingers tightening into balled fists at his side to the point where his nails were pushing moon-shaped divets into the silicone.

"It's not my FAULT okay..? It took me a while to even realize my name wasn't fucking "Fact"..-! I-Im SORRY.."

[adventuregunsphere]

"I'm.. I'm sorry too," it came out a lot sadder than he'd meant.. His optic shrunk back into his hull, glancing to the side as his fists trembled.. He shoved his hands in his pockets, hiding them.. It didn't do much for the way his face plates twitched..

Keith turned, again, and fled the room. He was dirty, and gross, and the only thing he'd been happy about turned out to be a half facsmile of his friend.. He just needed some time...

[thefactualsphere]

"Keith-!" he started, but fell flat, just watching him exit the room without another word. His insides churned, clicking in some sort of internal strain against the confusion and all these mishaps. He felt rather hot, too...

[Core Corruption at 47%]

Neil bitterly clenched his teeth, possibly a bit too hard when he felt them creaking a little. This isn't his FAULT. Why was he being treated like this was his fault-?! Neil felt that this house was too stuffy all of a sudden. Yeah.. that was it. This house was so dusty and cluttered so that's the reason he's having a hard time breathing.

He decided to step outside, press his back against the outer wall l's panels, and slowly slump into the grass and dirt.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith retreated into the garage, slinking deep between the tools.. the odds and ends at least kept his hands busy... The noise of metal and parts taken out of the spare bits kept his mind clear enough to think...

Rick, meanwhile, was rather busy surveying the bedrooms..

He rubbed the back of his head, looking at the furniture in the master bedroom with a conflicted look on his face...

"Do y'think y' want yer own room Wheats..? I.. I know y've been used t' sleeping with us but.. Y'can get some privacy now-"

[thefactualsphere]

He rubbed his arm a bit sheepishly, optic tucked in just a bit with a flair of his plates. He wasn't so sure about it himself- But aren't independent, smart adults supposed to have their own bedroom?

"I suppose if anything were still... Y-know, close 'n all that.... uhmmm..... Yeah..... Yeah I don't uh. Think I'll mind sleeping alone in the dark. By myself that much. Just uhhh. As long as yer in shoutin' distance."

He cleared his throat, kicking the floor just a little bit in antsy-ness.

"....Plus Neil always hogs the covers..."

[adventuregunsphere]

"Hah- that he does.. Might have t' come sleep with y' if I can't find any good covers-" he joked, tossing a wink towards the other bot.

He trailed over to the closest door, peeking into the room..

"Hmm.. Maybe we can get y' the room over... Make that yer bedroom..?"

[thefactualsphere]

The room had been what looked to be well tidied, full of handmade blankets and quilts that covered the bed and the small seat in the corner. There had been a few colorful, but pretty tacky paintings hanging on the walls. He looked at everything with a bit of a wince.

"......Maybe after getting rid of some of these... er... human decorations. Yeah. Thats it. I don't like em because they're for humans, not because they're ugly. I need. I need decorations that say me. Say "Wheatley!" Pretty boldly! Not... not as bold as these paintings maybe."

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick chuckled softly, glancing around the room to spot all the jarringly colored paintings.. They certainly were an aquired taste.. Maybe someone else would like them, though..

"I s'pose we can do that, maybe they'll have some kinda store in the city fer that.. We can get y' a nice rug for the place.. The blankets aren't a bad spot though.. Starting t' get cold now, ain't it..?"

He turned to study the space outside the room again...

"Why don't we go catch up t' the other two..? Aught'a been long enough fer them to have made up."

[thefactualsphere]

"Mmm, yeah! Yeah okay! And uh. Yes to keeping the. The blankets too. I do think this place is better insulated than that barn atleast... Pretty warm.. Oh. Oh right, yeah, let's. Get with the other two. Maybe Keith will talk to me now!"

He followed Rick outside, hoping to see some friendly faces and some handshaking-

Instead, they found Neil alone by the side of the house. He was sat on the bare ground, both hands covering his face- there was a little bit of steam coming from him, considering his metal was so hot and the air was so cold.

[adventuregunsphere]

This was not what Rick wanted to see.. How it had even managed to get worse was beyond him..

He quickly knelt down, hesitating slightly before placing his hand carefully on Neil's clothed shoulder to soften the heat..

"Darlin'- what happened??" he asked, his brows knitting together in a worried expression.. "I thought you were jus.. He didn't hurt y' did he-?"

Neil could see him glancing him over for injury.. Like he'd hoped Neil had just taken a step wrong and fallen.. It would be an easier fix than the reality..

[thefactualsphere]

A disgusting sounding noise came from his throat, his hand instinctively going up to wipe a runny nose that didn't exist. The bot remained silent for a while, trying desperately to sound put together. To try and make a semblance of himself seem like he was in control.

"He didn't lay a ff..finger on me, Rick.." he huffed, a slight warble in his voice.

"I fucking... I tried. I really tried, just... A simple appology, acknowledging both of our wrongs, trying to redo my first impression-"

He does a wide motion with his arms.

"And this mother fucker starts dumping onto me that we apparently were supposed to be like... like best friends or something..! That we took meal breaks together and we were lab partners- But how the fuck am I supposed to know that-?! I didn't know my own god damn name until like, like MONTHS AGO-!"

He puts a hand on his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose obsessively- he definitely had been really forcing his brain to try to work, but nothing came to him.

"Is this MY fault somehow.....-? But this doesn't make any SENSE... This guy is... is ridiculous! Theres NO WAY I would forget something- SOMEONE that important! Right...?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick faltered a little, glancing past Neil at the house he'd laid against..

"That's.. somethin' alright.." He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sure he didn't mean t' blame y' sweets.. Jus'.. lord- it's probably real hard fer him right now.." he rambled on, his voice gentle..

"Poor guy jus' now got fixed up, and I'm sure he ain't feelin' too great up here... You remember how you were jus' the first week..? "

"An.. Well- I certainly don't remember anything.. Seems common not t'.. It's not yer fault.. an it ain't somethin t' judge by, "he said the last bit firmly, accepting no room for argument as he carefully patted Neil's shoulder..

[thefactualsphere]

He still was rather warm to the touch, but he let out a long hard sigh instead of opening his mouth to argue at all. It's not like he had a choice- he knew that tone of Rick's, and he knew it meant that he would not take an argument right now.

"........Okay." is all he could manage, quietly staring at the ground. It looked like a few fistfuls of the grass had been torn out around him absentmindedly. If you were to look at his eyes, it was pretty clear how much strain he was in previously."

"......What do I even do now? Can I fix this..?"

[adventuregunsphere]

He could see this was eating Neil up already.. The grass, the heat he was radiating.. The poor guy wasn't in a good way at all..

"Well, I always say there ain't nothin' in the world some time and hard work can't fix.. and lucky you, I think y' both might jus need some time t' adjust," he reached up to gently pet at Neil's hair..

"How about a distraction fer now? We wanted t' see what y' thought of the beds in 'ere..?" he offered it hopefully, extending a hand to his darling bot..

[thefactualsphere]

He instinctively craned his head upward to meet his touch, closing those tired eyes of his- It definitely helped at the least.

He took hold of Rick's hand shortly after, huffing a little as he got off the ground. He used his other hand to brush himself off of dirt and grass.

"That'd be nice... Yeah. Yeah we could do that.."

Wheatley stood rather awkwardly about 3 feet away from the others, plates flairing just a little- the range was limited with his handles still in place- as he thought about it. It can't be nice to sit alone like that just dwelling on it all... They both should know, they were up there for a pretty long time like that. Maybe he could provide some company..?

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick took Neil by the hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the back.. He led Neil back inside the house they'd come into at a stroke of luck, glancing back towards Wheatley as he stood just outside the door..

"Y' comin' Wheats?" he called back, tilting his head slightly..

[thefactualsphere]

He stood quietly for a minute, staring towards the garage- Keith hadn't said where he was going, of course, but going off of the little faintest clings and tool rustling he could hear from there, he definitely hoped that's where he went. Otherwise there's like. A bear in there or something. And that's terrifying.

"Uh....Yeah, Just- yeah, I'm coming."

Probably not the smartest to go bolting in there- probably he should make an excuse- like uh... Rick needed a hammer for the fencing or. Something. Yeah.

So he followed along.

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick took Neil by the hand, stopping at the bedroom he intended to claim for himself and Neil...

"Y' like the look of this one sweets? I figure we can get a nice collection going up here if we bring up yer hoarde from the old room," he gestured across the empty wall space with a gentle grin..

"I'll even see about makin' y' some shelves fer displaying your favorites~"

"An then I was talkin' t' Wheats about givin' him the room over here," he gestured to the other doorway..

"We aught t' do somethin' with those paintings though.. Maybe see if somebody else wants em if nobody here likes the look of em.."

[thefactualsphere]

Neil looked at the paintings on the walls in his room as well. They were colorful, and a little sketchy looking. Definitely a form of abstract art. Neil stared at them with a contemplative look in those pink eyes.

"....Nah."

He smirked.

"I like them."

"WHAT-?!?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick bit his lip a little, muffling the laugh he almost let out as Wheatley exclaimed- he couldn't claim to really like or dislike them, since he wasn't one for the arts himself..

"Well I s'pose we can keep em in our room then," he said, biting back a laugh still..

"Since y' like the look of em so well, I'm sure we can fit em somewhere..."

Rick was already glancing at their open bedroom, trying to plan out where he'd be putting shelves or nails to hang paintings from...

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatleys eyes were squinting in a bit of disdain, staring right at Neil and his big smirky face.

"I think we should put them in the living room."

"No."

"I think they should go right above the fireplace."

"NO!!"

Wheatley presses his palms to his optic, letting out a muffled noise of vast displeasure.

"WE don't need human art, NONE of us are human-! And since theyre human art, we should think theyre ugly!"

"Literally where are you coming from with this. Besides we... we were human BEFORE."

"I wasnt!!! I think you're being discrimatory with. With that wording."

Neil began to laugh "Whattt???? What do you fucking mean???"

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick barely had room to interject between the two, let alone referee between whatever it was Wheatley was talking about-

"It's fine if he wants t' think that Neil- " he tried, barely getting in a word between the brief moment he had while Neil laughed at the other core.. "There's nothin' wrong with that.."

"I don't even remember nothin' fore I ended up in the bin, really.. "

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley's face was scrunched up in unamusement, a gritting noise of metal squeezing in his face.

"Memories shmemories- what's more important is getting this place moreso our style- it's so BROWN in here..."

As the two rambled on about nothing really in particular, the small creature underneath the cowboys hat began to chirp. It stuck it's little beak out underneath the brim to make sure it's bleets and trills were audible.

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick watched them fondly, they were awful cute when they weren't arguing about anything serious..

Though just as he'd thought it, his attention was diverted by his little pet underneath his hat.. He stepped back a little, raising his hat and fishing the little guy out.. Rick cupped him real gentle in his hand, his affection warming even more as he stared down at the little buglike creature..

"What's up with y' Buddy? You hungry?"

[thefactualsphere]

It's tail thwicked against the side of his hand, it's little beak pressing against one of the man's fingers- He could definitely feel it nibbling, but it's teeth were so small it couldn't even hurt at all. Another little chirp echoed from it's small body. The answer was most likely yes. Who knows when the last time it ate was if it was sleeping against wheatley for that long. In fact, the way it opened it's beak towards the air was sort of a mimicry of what a baby bird would do.

[adventuregunsphere]

"N'alrighty then, s'pose I'll have t' see where I can find y' some good meat.. hm.."

Rick thought on it for a moment, and decided that whatever meat was still in the fridge here, was definitely not edible still. He'd have to make a little trip to the local shops to procure some.. Which entailed leaving the house-

He stepped between Neil and Wheatley's heated debate as he cleared his throat loudly..

"I got t' go into town again t' find Buddy some food, I'll be back soon enough.. don't burn the place down while I'm out, yeah?" he chuckled..

[thefactualsphere]

The two of them glanced over to him, too busy arguing about what color the walls should be to have even realized he had taken a few steps back. They then looked at eachother instead, they back at him.

"That has a low probability of happening. I don't even think the gas is on."

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick chuckled, bidding the two a good time deciding on a rug color with a wink before he left.. He'd be away for a while yet procuring some meat from the butcher.. Plenty of time for them to argue and hash it all out.

Keith, meanwhile, had been hard at work dismantling a lawn mower. Not for any particular reason, other than the soothing effect it had on his mind.

He'd strewn the pieces every which way, organizing them in rows as it suited him. His process was pretty easy to understand, if you were Keith. He'd started cleaning them by this time, with a rag he'd fished out of a dusty old box. At least this gave him time to think it all over...

Someone else must have intervened in Neil's upload.. And.. taken it all away from him. Neil was so close to the man he'd used to know.. But without any of the fondness of memories they'd made together...

It was a harsh blow for someone in his place. A little time to himself was really all he wanted, just an hour, alone, to clean out and reassemble an ancient piece of machinery. It worked well enough to calm him down, by the time he was finishing up placing it back together he felt like he had a better head on him.

He could deal with... at least half of the things he had going on right now.

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[thefactualsphere]

Neil thought it over. Yeah... yeah he would really like it if Rick finally had something to keep him busy. Maybe then he wouldn't be taking off and getting himself hurt all the damn time. He knows Wheatley would like that too. And there's some room out there for that damn alien to run around once it's grown some more.

Wheatley walked in after Rick, probably blabbering about their own ideas of what would make this place a home. And surprisingly.... Keith would get his wish a bit sooner.

Once the others had walked in a bit later, Neil awkwardly walked up to the newer member and cleared his throat. He was definitely embarassed to do this, and was taking more effort than a regular person might- but he glanced away, hand on the back of his neck.

"..... I suppose I owe you... an.... Appology." He coughed, hating to have to even admit he was in the wrong ever.

"I know we....... got off on the wrong foot pretty much fucking immediately. I'd like to blame it that we were both just tense and... didn't have anywhere for it to go. I'd really hate for that to be my ahem.... first impression, so... is.... it alright if we just start over...?"

His cheeks were a bit red- This egotistical loser was totally embarassed with himself.

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick and Wheatley went further into the house, Rick looking for rooms to see what all they had to work with and pulling Wheats along with him to give Neil some time with the new core..

"Neil- I- " Keith blinked, the words catching up to him just a moment after Neil had finished. He'd had this all planned out. He'd had a whole slurry of words to give to Neil, to apologize and make note of how truly awful he felt that he'd insulted the other- and more.. but...

"First impression.. I- We know each other- "

Keith suddenly seemed at a loss, his faceplates tightening into the hull of his head..

"You remember me. We worked together for years.. you're not corrupted that badly- " He tried to laugh it off like it was a bad joke, but somewhere deep down he sort of.. had a feeling.. His hands were shaking as he motioned in the air.. His voice grew tighter, crackling as he went on with no positive signs from the other..

"I know I was.. unwell for a while, a few years at my guess- It's me.. Keith? We both worked on the core upload process.. ? "

[thefactualsphere]

Neil bristled a bit - not from an anger or anything, but... more so anxiety. Neil had spent alot of effort working himself up to even appologize, and now things were being spun for a total loop.

"....I... I guess that could be the case..."

He spoke cautiously, almost overwhelmed with confusion and slight nerves.

"Keith, huh...? That's... It might be a bit... familiar.."

It's almost like he was really trying to monitor what he was saying.

"....Truth be told I.... don't... remember much from before all this... I remember bits and details from a few uploads I did... Mostly just... screaming. Did I do yours too...?"

[adventuregunsphere]

"Of course not-" he snapped.. "Royales completed my transfer-" Despite his tone, it was a little easy to believe he simply sounded that way.. Especially as his face fell a little, his optic facing the floor.. Keith studied his feet, too shocked to properly think of a response for a moment..

Lots of ideas rolled through his mind.. Some sort of sabatouge, a mistake in the macheinery- betrayal even.. He'd looked forward to his old friend, thinking it some sort of luck after the agonies he'd gone through for so long. Trapped in his mind, trapped with that babbling fool... He'd thought that finally, his luck had turned for the better.

"We broke that coffee maker that.. that one time- we were partners in the robotics department.."

"We had our lunch breaks together- I was there when you joined the company-" His voice sharpened, tinged with anger but.. it was misplaced, not aimed towards Neil, but it sounded accusatory.. "You don't remember any of that-?"

[thefactualsphere]

He was frozen in headlights now, eyes flickering and shining a bit brighter with just how *panicked* he was with this sudden confrontation. He didn't usually like thinking about how much he was missing, so this was really not making him feel too great.

His jaw was clenched, fingers tightening into balled fists at his side to the point where his nails were pushing moon-shaped divets into the silicone.

"It's not my FAULT okay..? It took me a while to even realize my name wasn't fucking "Fact"..-! I-Im SORRY.."

[adventuregunsphere]

"I'm.. I'm sorry too," it came out a lot sadder than he'd meant.. His optic shrunk back into his hull, glancing to the side as his fists trembled.. He shoved his hands in his pockets, hiding them.. It didn't do much for the way his face plates twitched..

Keith turned, again, and fled the room. He was dirty, and gross, and the only thing he'd been happy about turned out to be a half facsmile of his friend.. He just needed some time...

[thefactualsphere]

"Keith-!" he started, but fell flat, just watching him exit the room without another word. His insides churned, clicking in some sort of internal strain against the confusion and all these mishaps. He felt rather hot, too...

[Core Corruption at 47%]

Neil bitterly clenched his teeth, possibly a bit too hard when he felt them creaking a little. This isn't his FAULT. Why was he being treated like this was his fault-?! Neil felt that this house was too stuffy all of a sudden. Yeah.. that was it. This house was so dusty and cluttered so that's the reason he's having a hard time breathing.

He decided to step outside, press his back against the outer wall l's panels, and slowly slump into the grass and dirt.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith retreated into the garage, slinking deep between the tools.. the odds and ends at least kept his hands busy... The noise of metal and parts taken out of the spare bits kept his mind clear enough to think...

Rick, meanwhile, was rather busy surveying the bedrooms..

He rubbed the back of his head, looking at the furniture in the master bedroom with a conflicted look on his face...

"Do y'think y' want yer own room Wheats..? I.. I know y've been used t' sleeping with us but.. Y'can get some privacy now-"

[thefactualsphere]

He rubbed his arm a bit sheepishly, optic tucked in just a bit with a flair of his plates. He wasn't so sure about it himself- But aren't independent, smart adults supposed to have their own bedroom?

"I suppose if anything were still... Y-know, close 'n all that.... uhmmm..... Yeah..... Yeah I don't uh. Think I'll mind sleeping alone in the dark. By myself that much. Just uhhh. As long as yer in shoutin' distance."

He cleared his throat, kicking the floor just a little bit in antsy-ness.

"....Plus Neil always hogs the covers..."

[adventuregunsphere]

"Hah- that he does.. Might have t' come sleep with y' if I can't find any good covers-" he joked, tossing a wink towards the other bot.

He trailed over to the closest door, peeking into the room..

"Hmm.. Maybe we can get y' the room over... Make that yer bedroom..?"

[thefactualsphere]

The room had been what looked to be well tidied, full of handmade blankets and quilts that covered the bed and the small seat in the corner. There had been a few colorful, but pretty tacky paintings hanging on the walls. He looked at everything with a bit of a wince.

"......Maybe after getting rid of some of these... er... human decorations. Yeah. Thats it. I don't like em because they're for humans, not because they're ugly. I need. I need decorations that say me. Say "Wheatley!" Pretty boldly! Not... not as bold as these paintings maybe."

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick chuckled softly, glancing around the room to spot all the jarringly colored paintings.. They certainly were an aquired taste.. Maybe someone else would like them, though..

"I s'pose we can do that, maybe they'll have some kinda store in the city fer that.. We can get y' a nice rug for the place.. The blankets aren't a bad spot though.. Starting t' get cold now, ain't it..?"

He turned to study the space outside the room again...

"Why don't we go catch up t' the other two..? Aught'a been long enough fer them to have made up."

[thefactualsphere]

"Mmm, yeah! Yeah okay! And uh. Yes to keeping the. The blankets too. I do think this place is better insulated than that barn atleast... Pretty warm.. Oh. Oh right, yeah, let's. Get with the other two. Maybe Keith will talk to me now!"

He followed Rick outside, hoping to see some friendly faces and some handshaking-

Instead, they found Neil alone by the side of the house. He was sat on the bare ground, both hands covering his face- there was a little bit of steam coming from him, considering his metal was so hot and the air was so cold.

[adventuregunsphere]

This was not what Rick wanted to see.. How it had even managed to get worse was beyond him..

He quickly knelt down, hesitating slightly before placing his hand carefully on Neil's clothed shoulder to soften the heat..

"Darlin'- what happened??" he asked, his brows knitting together in a worried expression.. "I thought you were jus.. He didn't hurt y' did he-?"

Neil could see him glancing him over for injury.. Like he'd hoped Neil had just taken a step wrong and fallen.. It would be an easier fix than the reality..

[thefactualsphere]

A disgusting sounding noise came from his throat, his hand instinctively going up to wipe a runny nose that didn't exist. The bot remained silent for a while, trying desperately to sound put together. To try and make a semblance of himself seem like he was in control.

"He didn't lay a ff..finger on me, Rick.." he huffed, a slight warble in his voice.

"I fucking... I tried. I really tried, just... A simple appology, acknowledging both of our wrongs, trying to redo my first impression-"

He does a wide motion with his arms.

"And this mother fucker starts dumping onto me that we apparently were supposed to be like... like best friends or something..! That we took meal breaks together and we were lab partners- But how the fuck am I supposed to know that-?! I didn't know my own god damn name until like, like MONTHS AGO-!"

He puts a hand on his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose obsessively- he definitely had been really forcing his brain to try to work, but nothing came to him.

"Is this MY fault somehow.....-? But this doesn't make any SENSE... This guy is... is ridiculous! Theres NO WAY I would forget something- SOMEONE that important! Right...?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick faltered a little, glancing past Neil at the house he'd laid against..

"That's.. somethin' alright.." He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sure he didn't mean t' blame y' sweets.. Jus'.. lord- it's probably real hard fer him right now.." he rambled on, his voice gentle..

"Poor guy jus' now got fixed up, and I'm sure he ain't feelin' too great up here... You remember how you were jus' the first week..? "

"An.. Well- I certainly don't remember anything.. Seems common not t'.. It's not yer fault.. an it ain't somethin t' judge by, "he said the last bit firmly, accepting no room for argument as he carefully patted Neil's shoulder..

[thefactualsphere]

He still was rather warm to the touch, but he let out a long hard sigh instead of opening his mouth to argue at all. It's not like he had a choice- he knew that tone of Rick's, and he knew it meant that he would not take an argument right now.

"........Okay." is all he could manage, quietly staring at the ground. It looked like a few fistfuls of the grass had been torn out around him absentmindedly. If you were to look at his eyes, it was pretty clear how much strain he was in previously."

"......What do I even do now? Can I fix this..?"

[adventuregunsphere]

He could see this was eating Neil up already.. The grass, the heat he was radiating.. The poor guy wasn't in a good way at all..

"Well, I always say there ain't nothin' in the world some time and hard work can't fix.. and lucky you, I think y' both might jus need some time t' adjust," he reached up to gently pet at Neil's hair..

"How about a distraction fer now? We wanted t' see what y' thought of the beds in 'ere..?" he offered it hopefully, extending a hand to his darling bot..

[thefactualsphere]

He instinctively craned his head upward to meet his touch, closing those tired eyes of his- It definitely helped at the least.

He took hold of Rick's hand shortly after, huffing a little as he got off the ground. He used his other hand to brush himself off of dirt and grass.

"That'd be nice... Yeah. Yeah we could do that.."

Wheatley stood rather awkwardly about 3 feet away from the others, plates flairing just a little- the range was limited with his handles still in place- as he thought about it. It can't be nice to sit alone like that just dwelling on it all... They both should know, they were up there for a pretty long time like that. Maybe he could provide some company..?

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick took Neil by the hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the back.. He led Neil back inside the house they'd come into at a stroke of luck, glancing back towards Wheatley as he stood just outside the door..

"Y' comin' Wheats?" he called back, tilting his head slightly..

[thefactualsphere]

He stood quietly for a minute, staring towards the garage- Keith hadn't said where he was going, of course, but going off of the little faintest clings and tool rustling he could hear from there, he definitely hoped that's where he went. Otherwise there's like. A bear in there or something. And that's terrifying.

"Uh....Yeah, Just- yeah, I'm coming."

Probably not the smartest to go bolting in there- probably he should make an excuse- like uh... Rick needed a hammer for the fencing or. Something. Yeah.

So he followed along.

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick took Neil by the hand, stopping at the bedroom he intended to claim for himself and Neil...

"Y' like the look of this one sweets? I figure we can get a nice collection going up here if we bring up yer hoarde from the old room," he gestured across the empty wall space with a gentle grin..

"I'll even see about makin' y' some shelves fer displaying your favorites~"

"An then I was talkin' t' Wheats about givin' him the room over here," he gestured to the other doorway..

"We aught t' do somethin' with those paintings though.. Maybe see if somebody else wants em if nobody here likes the look of em.."

[thefactualsphere]

Neil looked at the paintings on the walls in his room as well. They were colorful, and a little sketchy looking. Definitely a form of abstract art. Neil stared at them with a contemplative look in those pink eyes.

"....Nah."

He smirked.

"I like them."

"WHAT-?!?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick bit his lip a little, muffling the laugh he almost let out as Wheatley exclaimed- he couldn't claim to really like or dislike them, since he wasn't one for the arts himself..

"Well I s'pose we can keep em in our room then," he said, biting back a laugh still..

"Since y' like the look of em so well, I'm sure we can fit em somewhere..."

Rick was already glancing at their open bedroom, trying to plan out where he'd be putting shelves or nails to hang paintings from...

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatleys eyes were squinting in a bit of disdain, staring right at Neil and his big smirky face.

"I think we should put them in the living room."

"No."

"I think they should go right above the fireplace."

"NO!!"

Wheatley presses his palms to his optic, letting out a muffled noise of vast displeasure.

"WE don't need human art, NONE of us are human-! And since theyre human art, we should think theyre ugly!"

"Literally where are you coming from with this. Besides we... we were human BEFORE."

"I wasnt!!! I think you're being discrimatory with. With that wording."

Neil began to laugh "Whattt???? What do you fucking mean???"

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick barely had room to interject between the two, let alone referee between whatever it was Wheatley was talking about-

"It's fine if he wants t' think that Neil- " he tried, barely getting in a word between the brief moment he had while Neil laughed at the other core.. "There's nothin' wrong with that.."

"I don't even remember nothin' fore I ended up in the bin, really.. "

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley's face was scrunched up in unamusement, a gritting noise of metal squeezing in his face.

"Memories shmemories- what's more important is getting this place moreso our style- it's so BROWN in here..."

As the two rambled on about nothing really in particular, the small creature underneath the cowboys hat began to chirp. It stuck it's little beak out underneath the brim to make sure it's bleets and trills were audible.

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick watched them fondly, they were awful cute when they weren't arguing about anything serious..

Though just as he'd thought it, his attention was diverted by his little pet underneath his hat.. He stepped back a little, raising his hat and fishing the little guy out.. Rick cupped him real gentle in his hand, his affection warming even more as he stared down at the little buglike creature..

"What's up with y' Buddy? You hungry?"

[thefactualsphere]

It's tail thwicked against the side of his hand, it's little beak pressing against one of the man's fingers- He could definitely feel it nibbling, but it's teeth were so small it couldn't even hurt at all. Another little chirp echoed from it's small body. The answer was most likely yes. Who knows when the last time it ate was if it was sleeping against wheatley for that long. In fact, the way it opened it's beak towards the air was sort of a mimicry of what a baby bird would do.

[adventuregunsphere]

"N'alrighty then, s'pose I'll have t' see where I can find y' some good meat.. hm.."

Rick thought on it for a moment, and decided that whatever meat was still in the fridge here, was definitely not edible still. He'd have to make a little trip to the local shops to procure some.. Which entailed leaving the house-

He stepped between Neil and Wheatley's heated debate as he cleared his throat loudly..

"I got t' go into town again t' find Buddy some food, I'll be back soon enough.. don't burn the place down while I'm out, yeah?" he chuckled..

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[thefactualsphere]

Neil thought it over. Yeah... yeah he would really like it if Rick finally had something to keep him busy. Maybe then he wouldn't be taking off and getting himself hurt all the damn time. He knows Wheatley would like that too. And there's some room out there for that damn alien to run around once it's grown some more.

Wheatley walked in after Rick, probably blabbering about their own ideas of what would make this place a home. And surprisingly.... Keith would get his wish a bit sooner.

Once the others had walked in a bit later, Neil awkwardly walked up to the newer member and cleared his throat. He was definitely embarassed to do this, and was taking more effort than a regular person might- but he glanced away, hand on the back of his neck.

"..... I suppose I owe you... an.... Appology." He coughed, hating to have to even admit he was in the wrong ever.

"I know we....... got off on the wrong foot pretty much fucking immediately. I'd like to blame it that we were both just tense and... didn't have anywhere for it to go. I'd really hate for that to be my ahem.... first impression, so... is.... it alright if we just start over...?"

His cheeks were a bit red- This egotistical loser was totally embarassed with himself.

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick and Wheatley went further into the house, Rick looking for rooms to see what all they had to work with and pulling Wheats along with him to give Neil some time with the new core..

"Neil- I- " Keith blinked, the words catching up to him just a moment after Neil had finished. He'd had this all planned out. He'd had a whole slurry of words to give to Neil, to apologize and make note of how truly awful he felt that he'd insulted the other- and more.. but...

"First impression.. I- We know each other- "

Keith suddenly seemed at a loss, his faceplates tightening into the hull of his head..

"You remember me. We worked together for years.. you're not corrupted that badly- " He tried to laugh it off like it was a bad joke, but somewhere deep down he sort of.. had a feeling.. His hands were shaking as he motioned in the air.. His voice grew tighter, crackling as he went on with no positive signs from the other..

"I know I was.. unwell for a while, a few years at my guess- It's me.. Keith? We both worked on the core upload process.. ? "

[thefactualsphere]

Neil bristled a bit - not from an anger or anything, but... more so anxiety. Neil had spent alot of effort working himself up to even appologize, and now things were being spun for a total loop.

"....I... I guess that could be the case..."

He spoke cautiously, almost overwhelmed with confusion and slight nerves.

"Keith, huh...? That's... It might be a bit... familiar.."

It's almost like he was really trying to monitor what he was saying.

"....Truth be told I.... don't... remember much from before all this... I remember bits and details from a few uploads I did... Mostly just... screaming. Did I do yours too...?"

[adventuregunsphere]

"Of course not-" he snapped.. "Royales completed my transfer-" Despite his tone, it was a little easy to believe he simply sounded that way.. Especially as his face fell a little, his optic facing the floor.. Keith studied his feet, too shocked to properly think of a response for a moment..

Lots of ideas rolled through his mind.. Some sort of sabatouge, a mistake in the macheinery- betrayal even.. He'd looked forward to his old friend, thinking it some sort of luck after the agonies he'd gone through for so long. Trapped in his mind, trapped with that babbling fool... He'd thought that finally, his luck had turned for the better.

"We broke that coffee maker that.. that one time- we were partners in the robotics department.."

"We had our lunch breaks together- I was there when you joined the company-" His voice sharpened, tinged with anger but.. it was misplaced, not aimed towards Neil, but it sounded accusatory.. "You don't remember any of that-?"

[thefactualsphere]

He was frozen in headlights now, eyes flickering and shining a bit brighter with just how *panicked* he was with this sudden confrontation. He didn't usually like thinking about how much he was missing, so this was really not making him feel too great.

His jaw was clenched, fingers tightening into balled fists at his side to the point where his nails were pushing moon-shaped divets into the silicone.

"It's not my FAULT okay..? It took me a while to even realize my name wasn't fucking "Fact"..-! I-Im SORRY.."

[adventuregunsphere]

"I'm.. I'm sorry too," it came out a lot sadder than he'd meant.. His optic shrunk back into his hull, glancing to the side as his fists trembled.. He shoved his hands in his pockets, hiding them.. It didn't do much for the way his face plates twitched..

Keith turned, again, and fled the room. He was dirty, and gross, and the only thing he'd been happy about turned out to be a half facsmile of his friend.. He just needed some time...

[thefactualsphere]

"Keith-!" he started, but fell flat, just watching him exit the room without another word. His insides churned, clicking in some sort of internal strain against the confusion and all these mishaps. He felt rather hot, too...

[Core Corruption at 47%]

Neil bitterly clenched his teeth, possibly a bit too hard when he felt them creaking a little. This isn't his FAULT. Why was he being treated like this was his fault-?! Neil felt that this house was too stuffy all of a sudden. Yeah.. that was it. This house was so dusty and cluttered so that's the reason he's having a hard time breathing.

He decided to step outside, press his back against the outer wall l's panels, and slowly slump into the grass and dirt.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith retreated into the garage, slinking deep between the tools.. the odds and ends at least kept his hands busy... The noise of metal and parts taken out of the spare bits kept his mind clear enough to think...

Rick, meanwhile, was rather busy surveying the bedrooms..

He rubbed the back of his head, looking at the furniture in the master bedroom with a conflicted look on his face...

"Do y'think y' want yer own room Wheats..? I.. I know y've been used t' sleeping with us but.. Y'can get some privacy now-"

[thefactualsphere]

He rubbed his arm a bit sheepishly, optic tucked in just a bit with a flair of his plates. He wasn't so sure about it himself- But aren't independent, smart adults supposed to have their own bedroom?

"I suppose if anything were still... Y-know, close 'n all that.... uhmmm..... Yeah..... Yeah I don't uh. Think I'll mind sleeping alone in the dark. By myself that much. Just uhhh. As long as yer in shoutin' distance."

He cleared his throat, kicking the floor just a little bit in antsy-ness.

"....Plus Neil always hogs the covers..."

[adventuregunsphere]

"Hah- that he does.. Might have t' come sleep with y' if I can't find any good covers-" he joked, tossing a wink towards the other bot.

He trailed over to the closest door, peeking into the room..

"Hmm.. Maybe we can get y' the room over... Make that yer bedroom..?"

[thefactualsphere]

The room had been what looked to be well tidied, full of handmade blankets and quilts that covered the bed and the small seat in the corner. There had been a few colorful, but pretty tacky paintings hanging on the walls. He looked at everything with a bit of a wince.

"......Maybe after getting rid of some of these... er... human decorations. Yeah. Thats it. I don't like em because they're for humans, not because they're ugly. I need. I need decorations that say me. Say "Wheatley!" Pretty boldly! Not... not as bold as these paintings maybe."

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick chuckled softly, glancing around the room to spot all the jarringly colored paintings.. They certainly were an aquired taste.. Maybe someone else would like them, though..

"I s'pose we can do that, maybe they'll have some kinda store in the city fer that.. We can get y' a nice rug for the place.. The blankets aren't a bad spot though.. Starting t' get cold now, ain't it..?"

He turned to study the space outside the room again...

"Why don't we go catch up t' the other two..? Aught'a been long enough fer them to have made up."

[thefactualsphere]

"Mmm, yeah! Yeah okay! And uh. Yes to keeping the. The blankets too. I do think this place is better insulated than that barn atleast... Pretty warm.. Oh. Oh right, yeah, let's. Get with the other two. Maybe Keith will talk to me now!"

He followed Rick outside, hoping to see some friendly faces and some handshaking-

Instead, they found Neil alone by the side of the house. He was sat on the bare ground, both hands covering his face- there was a little bit of steam coming from him, considering his metal was so hot and the air was so cold.

[adventuregunsphere]

This was not what Rick wanted to see.. How it had even managed to get worse was beyond him..

He quickly knelt down, hesitating slightly before placing his hand carefully on Neil's clothed shoulder to soften the heat..

"Darlin'- what happened??" he asked, his brows knitting together in a worried expression.. "I thought you were jus.. He didn't hurt y' did he-?"

Neil could see him glancing him over for injury.. Like he'd hoped Neil had just taken a step wrong and fallen.. It would be an easier fix than the reality..

[thefactualsphere]

A disgusting sounding noise came from his throat, his hand instinctively going up to wipe a runny nose that didn't exist. The bot remained silent for a while, trying desperately to sound put together. To try and make a semblance of himself seem like he was in control.

"He didn't lay a ff..finger on me, Rick.." he huffed, a slight warble in his voice.

"I fucking... I tried. I really tried, just... A simple appology, acknowledging both of our wrongs, trying to redo my first impression-"

He does a wide motion with his arms.

"And this mother fucker starts dumping onto me that we apparently were supposed to be like... like best friends or something..! That we took meal breaks together and we were lab partners- But how the fuck am I supposed to know that-?! I didn't know my own god damn name until like, like MONTHS AGO-!"

He puts a hand on his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose obsessively- he definitely had been really forcing his brain to try to work, but nothing came to him.

"Is this MY fault somehow.....-? But this doesn't make any SENSE... This guy is... is ridiculous! Theres NO WAY I would forget something- SOMEONE that important! Right...?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick faltered a little, glancing past Neil at the house he'd laid against..

"That's.. somethin' alright.." He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sure he didn't mean t' blame y' sweets.. Jus'.. lord- it's probably real hard fer him right now.." he rambled on, his voice gentle..

"Poor guy jus' now got fixed up, and I'm sure he ain't feelin' too great up here... You remember how you were jus' the first week..? "

"An.. Well- I certainly don't remember anything.. Seems common not t'.. It's not yer fault.. an it ain't somethin t' judge by, "he said the last bit firmly, accepting no room for argument as he carefully patted Neil's shoulder..

[thefactualsphere]

He still was rather warm to the touch, but he let out a long hard sigh instead of opening his mouth to argue at all. It's not like he had a choice- he knew that tone of Rick's, and he knew it meant that he would not take an argument right now.

"........Okay." is all he could manage, quietly staring at the ground. It looked like a few fistfuls of the grass had been torn out around him absentmindedly. If you were to look at his eyes, it was pretty clear how much strain he was in previously."

"......What do I even do now? Can I fix this..?"

[adventuregunsphere]

He could see this was eating Neil up already.. The grass, the heat he was radiating.. The poor guy wasn't in a good way at all..

"Well, I always say there ain't nothin' in the world some time and hard work can't fix.. and lucky you, I think y' both might jus need some time t' adjust," he reached up to gently pet at Neil's hair..

"How about a distraction fer now? We wanted t' see what y' thought of the beds in 'ere..?" he offered it hopefully, extending a hand to his darling bot..

[thefactualsphere]

He instinctively craned his head upward to meet his touch, closing those tired eyes of his- It definitely helped at the least.

He took hold of Rick's hand shortly after, huffing a little as he got off the ground. He used his other hand to brush himself off of dirt and grass.

"That'd be nice... Yeah. Yeah we could do that.."

Wheatley stood rather awkwardly about 3 feet away from the others, plates flairing just a little- the range was limited with his handles still in place- as he thought about it. It can't be nice to sit alone like that just dwelling on it all... They both should know, they were up there for a pretty long time like that. Maybe he could provide some company..?

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick took Neil by the hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the back.. He led Neil back inside the house they'd come into at a stroke of luck, glancing back towards Wheatley as he stood just outside the door..

"Y' comin' Wheats?" he called back, tilting his head slightly..

[thefactualsphere]

He stood quietly for a minute, staring towards the garage- Keith hadn't said where he was going, of course, but going off of the little faintest clings and tool rustling he could hear from there, he definitely hoped that's where he went. Otherwise there's like. A bear in there or something. And that's terrifying.

"Uh....Yeah, Just- yeah, I'm coming."

Probably not the smartest to go bolting in there- probably he should make an excuse- like uh... Rick needed a hammer for the fencing or. Something. Yeah.

So he followed along.

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick took Neil by the hand, stopping at the bedroom he intended to claim for himself and Neil...

"Y' like the look of this one sweets? I figure we can get a nice collection going up here if we bring up yer hoarde from the old room," he gestured across the empty wall space with a gentle grin..

"I'll even see about makin' y' some shelves fer displaying your favorites~"

"An then I was talkin' t' Wheats about givin' him the room over here," he gestured to the other doorway..

"We aught t' do somethin' with those paintings though.. Maybe see if somebody else wants em if nobody here likes the look of em.."

[thefactualsphere]

Neil looked at the paintings on the walls in his room as well. They were colorful, and a little sketchy looking. Definitely a form of abstract art. Neil stared at them with a contemplative look in those pink eyes.

"....Nah."

He smirked.

"I like them."

"WHAT-?!?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick bit his lip a little, muffling the laugh he almost let out as Wheatley exclaimed- he couldn't claim to really like or dislike them, since he wasn't one for the arts himself..

"Well I s'pose we can keep em in our room then," he said, biting back a laugh still..

"Since y' like the look of em so well, I'm sure we can fit em somewhere..."

Rick was already glancing at their open bedroom, trying to plan out where he'd be putting shelves or nails to hang paintings from...

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatleys eyes were squinting in a bit of disdain, staring right at Neil and his big smirky face.

"I think we should put them in the living room."

"No."

"I think they should go right above the fireplace."

"NO!!"

Wheatley presses his palms to his optic, letting out a muffled noise of vast displeasure.

"WE don't need human art, NONE of us are human-! And since theyre human art, we should think theyre ugly!"

"Literally where are you coming from with this. Besides we... we were human BEFORE."

"I wasnt!!! I think you're being discrimatory with. With that wording."

Neil began to laugh "Whattt???? What do you fucking mean???"

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick barely had room to interject between the two, let alone referee between whatever it was Wheatley was talking about-

"It's fine if he wants t' think that Neil- " he tried, barely getting in a word between the brief moment he had while Neil laughed at the other core.. "There's nothin' wrong with that.."

"I don't even remember nothin' fore I ended up in the bin, really.. "

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatley's face was scrunched up in unamusement, a gritting noise of metal squeezing in his face.

"Memories shmemories- what's more important is getting this place moreso our style- it's so BROWN in here..."

As the two rambled on about nothing really in particular, the small creature underneath the cowboys hat began to chirp. It stuck it's little beak out underneath the brim to make sure it's bleets and trills were audible.

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick watched them fondly, they were awful cute when they weren't arguing about anything serious..

Though just as he'd thought it, his attention was diverted by his little pet underneath his hat.. He stepped back a little, raising his hat and fishing the little guy out.. Rick cupped him real gentle in his hand, his affection warming even more as he stared down at the little buglike creature..

"What's up with y' Buddy? You hungry?"

[thefactualsphere]

The body the corrupted core chose was one that kept it's original form, but allowed him much more mobility. A simple, deeply buried design that was attributed to someone named Keith Astor. The core had indicated to the AMA its location within the files of the large, mazelike systems Aperture ran on... And judging by the software inside the core, he had some knowledge of who had created the files.

It had been a visionary piece. Not all of the materials were even available to AMA... But of course, it likely did it's best. Recplacing and substituting wherever it couldn't do the exact job the schematics entailed.

And finally, the core was able to be released from the chamber on the plate, unsteady and barely calibrated. He leaned against the wall for balance, the optic in his head spinning and blinking slowly... He'd kept the main body of a core for his head, minus the limiting handles, and his body was a slightly modified version of the regular models of this time.. Though it was much more modular... Whoever had made it had done so with the ease of modifications in mind..

He felt as if he were biting his tongue, anxious to speak for fear it would still come out wrong.. He hadn't spoken a word of sense in decades, it was perhaps only fair that he were tense...

@adventuregunsphere

The A.M.A had looked over its work. The arm it had used was seemingly a bit tense itself as it tried to analyze what it had done. It was unable to be exact with the schematics provided to it, so it wasn't entirely happy with how it came out. It wasn't perfect.

Nevertheless, it tried to push this aside. It did its best with what it had. The parts for this model were outdated afterall...

[Please proceed with caution; calibration has not been sufficiently completed.]

It watched quietly afterward. What could it have done better? What substitutes should it have used that would have been closer to the original blueprint? What if its estimation caused any errors or discomfort? It would not know. Not until the problems were found. So it sat in unease, anticipating a major flaw.

[thefactualsphere]

Neil thought it over. Yeah... yeah he would really like it if Rick finally had something to keep him busy. Maybe then he wouldn't be taking off and getting himself hurt all the damn time. He knows Wheatley would like that too. And there's some room out there for that damn alien to run around once it's grown some more.

Wheatley walked in after Rick, probably blabbering about their own ideas of what would make this place a home. And surprisingly.... Keith would get his wish a bit sooner.

Once the others had walked in a bit later, Neil awkwardly walked up to the newer member and cleared his throat. He was definitely embarassed to do this, and was taking more effort than a regular person might- but he glanced away, hand on the back of his neck.

"..... I suppose I owe you... an.... Appology." He coughed, hating to have to even admit he was in the wrong ever.

"I know we....... got off on the wrong foot pretty much fucking immediately. I'd like to blame it that we were both just tense and... didn't have anywhere for it to go. I'd really hate for that to be my ahem.... first impression, so... is.... it alright if we just start over...?"

His cheeks were a bit red- This egotistical loser was totally embarassed with himself.

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick and Wheatley went further into the house, Rick looking for rooms to see what all they had to work with and pulling Wheats along with him to give Neil some time with the new core..

"Neil- I- " Keith blinked, the words catching up to him just a moment after Neil had finished. He'd had this all planned out. He'd had a whole slurry of words to give to Neil, to apologize and make note of how truly awful he felt that he'd insulted the other- and more.. but...

"First impression.. I- We know each other- "

Keith suddenly seemed at a loss, his faceplates tightening into the hull of his head..

"You remember me. We worked together for years.. you're not corrupted that badly- " He tried to laugh it off like it was a bad joke, but somewhere deep down he sort of.. had a feeling.. His hands were shaking as he motioned in the air.. His voice grew tighter, crackling as he went on with no positive signs from the other..

"I know I was.. unwell for a while, a few years at my guess- It's me.. Keith? We both worked on the core upload process.. ? "

[thefactualsphere]

Neil bristled a bit - not from an anger or anything, but... more so anxiety. Neil had spent alot of effort working himself up to even appologize, and now things were being spun for a total loop.

"....I... I guess that could be the case..."

He spoke cautiously, almost overwhelmed with confusion and slight nerves.

"Keith, huh...? That's... It might be a bit... familiar.."

It's almost like he was really trying to monitor what he was saying.

"....Truth be told I.... don't... remember much from before all this... I remember bits and details from a few uploads I did... Mostly just... screaming. Did I do yours too...?"

[adventuregunsphere]

"Of course not-" he snapped.. "Royales completed my transfer-" Despite his tone, it was a little easy to believe he simply sounded that way.. Especially as his face fell a little, his optic facing the floor.. Keith studied his feet, too shocked to properly think of a response for a moment..

Lots of ideas rolled through his mind.. Some sort of sabatouge, a mistake in the macheinery- betrayal even.. He'd looked forward to his old friend, thinking it some sort of luck after the agonies he'd gone through for so long. Trapped in his mind, trapped with that babbling fool... He'd thought that finally, his luck had turned for the better.

"We broke that coffee maker that.. that one time- we were partners in the robotics department.."

"We had our lunch breaks together- I was there when you joined the company-" His voice sharpened, tinged with anger but.. it was misplaced, not aimed towards Neil, but it sounded accusatory.. "You don't remember any of that-?"

[thefactualsphere]

He was frozen in headlights now, eyes flickering and shining a bit brighter with just how *panicked* he was with this sudden confrontation. He didn't usually like thinking about how much he was missing, so this was really not making him feel too great.

His jaw was clenched, fingers tightening into balled fists at his side to the point where his nails were pushing moon-shaped divets into the silicone.

"It's not my FAULT okay..? It took me a while to even realize my name wasn't fucking "Fact"..-! I-Im SORRY.."

[adventuregunsphere]

"I'm.. I'm sorry too," it came out a lot sadder than he'd meant.. His optic shrunk back into his hull, glancing to the side as his fists trembled.. He shoved his hands in his pockets, hiding them.. It didn't do much for the way his face plates twitched..

Keith turned, again, and fled the room. He was dirty, and gross, and the only thing he'd been happy about turned out to be a half facsmile of his friend.. He just needed some time...

[thefactualsphere]

"Keith-!" he started, but fell flat, just watching him exit the room without another word. His insides churned, clicking in some sort of internal strain against the confusion and all these mishaps. He felt rather hot, too...

[Core Corruption at 47%]

Neil bitterly clenched his teeth, possibly a bit too hard when he felt them creaking a little. This isn't his FAULT. Why was he being treated like this was his fault-?! Neil felt that this house was too stuffy all of a sudden. Yeah.. that was it. This house was so dusty and cluttered so that's the reason he's having a hard time breathing.

He decided to step outside, press his back against the outer wall l's panels, and slowly slump into the grass and dirt.

[adventuregunsphere]

Keith retreated into the garage, slinking deep between the tools.. the odds and ends at least kept his hands busy... The noise of metal and parts taken out of the spare bits kept his mind clear enough to think...

Rick, meanwhile, was rather busy surveying the bedrooms..

He rubbed the back of his head, looking at the furniture in the master bedroom with a conflicted look on his face...

"Do y'think y' want yer own room Wheats..? I.. I know y've been used t' sleeping with us but.. Y'can get some privacy now-"

[thefactualsphere]

He rubbed his arm a bit sheepishly, optic tucked in just a bit with a flair of his plates. He wasn't so sure about it himself- But aren't independent, smart adults supposed to have their own bedroom?

"I suppose if anything were still... Y-know, close 'n all that.... uhmmm..... Yeah..... Yeah I don't uh. Think I'll mind sleeping alone in the dark. By myself that much. Just uhhh. As long as yer in shoutin' distance."

He cleared his throat, kicking the floor just a little bit in antsy-ness.

"....Plus Neil always hogs the covers..."

[adventuregunsphere]

"Hah- that he does.. Might have t' come sleep with y' if I can't find any good covers-" he joked, tossing a wink towards the other bot.

He trailed over to the closest door, peeking into the room..

"Hmm.. Maybe we can get y' the room over... Make that yer bedroom..?"

[thefactualsphere]

The room had been what looked to be well tidied, full of handmade blankets and quilts that covered the bed and the small seat in the corner. There had been a few colorful, but pretty tacky paintings hanging on the walls. He looked at everything with a bit of a wince.

"......Maybe after getting rid of some of these... er... human decorations. Yeah. Thats it. I don't like em because they're for humans, not because they're ugly. I need. I need decorations that say me. Say "Wheatley!" Pretty boldly! Not... not as bold as these paintings maybe."

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick chuckled softly, glancing around the room to spot all the jarringly colored paintings.. They certainly were an aquired taste.. Maybe someone else would like them, though..

"I s'pose we can do that, maybe they'll have some kinda store in the city fer that.. We can get y' a nice rug for the place.. The blankets aren't a bad spot though.. Starting t' get cold now, ain't it..?"

He turned to study the space outside the room again...

"Why don't we go catch up t' the other two..? Aught'a been long enough fer them to have made up."

[thefactualsphere]

"Mmm, yeah! Yeah okay! And uh. Yes to keeping the. The blankets too. I do think this place is better insulated than that barn atleast... Pretty warm.. Oh. Oh right, yeah, let's. Get with the other two. Maybe Keith will talk to me now!"

He followed Rick outside, hoping to see some friendly faces and some handshaking-

Instead, they found Neil alone by the side of the house. He was sat on the bare ground, both hands covering his face- there was a little bit of steam coming from him, considering his metal was so hot and the air was so cold.

[adventuregunsphere]

This was not what Rick wanted to see.. How it had even managed to get worse was beyond him..

He quickly knelt down, hesitating slightly before placing his hand carefully on Neil's clothed shoulder to soften the heat..

"Darlin'- what happened??" he asked, his brows knitting together in a worried expression.. "I thought you were jus.. He didn't hurt y' did he-?"

Neil could see him glancing him over for injury.. Like he'd hoped Neil had just taken a step wrong and fallen.. It would be an easier fix than the reality..

[thefactualsphere]

A disgusting sounding noise came from his throat, his hand instinctively going up to wipe a runny nose that didn't exist. The bot remained silent for a while, trying desperately to sound put together. To try and make a semblance of himself seem like he was in control.

"He didn't lay a ff..finger on me, Rick.." he huffed, a slight warble in his voice.

"I fucking... I tried. I really tried, just... A simple appology, acknowledging both of our wrongs, trying to redo my first impression-"

He does a wide motion with his arms.

"And this mother fucker starts dumping onto me that we apparently were supposed to be like... like best friends or something..! That we took meal breaks together and we were lab partners- But how the fuck am I supposed to know that-?! I didn't know my own god damn name until like, like MONTHS AGO-!"

He puts a hand on his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose obsessively- he definitely had been really forcing his brain to try to work, but nothing came to him.

"Is this MY fault somehow.....-? But this doesn't make any SENSE... This guy is... is ridiculous! Theres NO WAY I would forget something- SOMEONE that important! Right...?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick faltered a little, glancing past Neil at the house he'd laid against..

"That's.. somethin' alright.." He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sure he didn't mean t' blame y' sweets.. Jus'.. lord- it's probably real hard fer him right now.." he rambled on, his voice gentle..

"Poor guy jus' now got fixed up, and I'm sure he ain't feelin' too great up here... You remember how you were jus' the first week..? "

"An.. Well- I certainly don't remember anything.. Seems common not t'.. It's not yer fault.. an it ain't somethin t' judge by, "he said the last bit firmly, accepting no room for argument as he carefully patted Neil's shoulder..

[thefactualsphere]

He still was rather warm to the touch, but he let out a long hard sigh instead of opening his mouth to argue at all. It's not like he had a choice- he knew that tone of Rick's, and he knew it meant that he would not take an argument right now.

"........Okay." is all he could manage, quietly staring at the ground. It looked like a few fistfuls of the grass had been torn out around him absentmindedly. If you were to look at his eyes, it was pretty clear how much strain he was in previously."

"......What do I even do now? Can I fix this..?"

[adventuregunsphere]

He could see this was eating Neil up already.. The grass, the heat he was radiating.. The poor guy wasn't in a good way at all..

"Well, I always say there ain't nothin' in the world some time and hard work can't fix.. and lucky you, I think y' both might jus need some time t' adjust," he reached up to gently pet at Neil's hair..

"How about a distraction fer now? We wanted t' see what y' thought of the beds in 'ere..?" he offered it hopefully, extending a hand to his darling bot..

[thefactualsphere]

He instinctively craned his head upward to meet his touch, closing those tired eyes of his- It definitely helped at the least.

He took hold of Rick's hand shortly after, huffing a little as he got off the ground. He used his other hand to brush himself off of dirt and grass.

"That'd be nice... Yeah. Yeah we could do that.."

Wheatley stood rather awkwardly about 3 feet away from the others, plates flairing just a little- the range was limited with his handles still in place- as he thought about it. It can't be nice to sit alone like that just dwelling on it all... They both should know, they were up there for a pretty long time like that. Maybe he could provide some company..?

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick took Neil by the hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the back.. He led Neil back inside the house they'd come into at a stroke of luck, glancing back towards Wheatley as he stood just outside the door..

"Y' comin' Wheats?" he called back, tilting his head slightly..

[thefactualsphere]

He stood quietly for a minute, staring towards the garage- Keith hadn't said where he was going, of course, but going off of the little faintest clings and tool rustling he could hear from there, he definitely hoped that's where he went. Otherwise there's like. A bear in there or something. And that's terrifying.

"Uh....Yeah, Just- yeah, I'm coming."

Probably not the smartest to go bolting in there- probably he should make an excuse- like uh... Rick needed a hammer for the fencing or. Something. Yeah.

So he followed along.

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick took Neil by the hand, stopping at the bedroom he intended to claim for himself and Neil...

"Y' like the look of this one sweets? I figure we can get a nice collection going up here if we bring up yer hoarde from the old room," he gestured across the empty wall space with a gentle grin..

"I'll even see about makin' y' some shelves fer displaying your favorites~"

"An then I was talkin' t' Wheats about givin' him the room over here," he gestured to the other doorway..

"We aught t' do somethin' with those paintings though.. Maybe see if somebody else wants em if nobody here likes the look of em.."

[thefactualsphere]

Neil looked at the paintings on the walls in his room as well. They were colorful, and a little sketchy looking. Definitely a form of abstract art. Neil stared at them with a contemplative look in those pink eyes.

"....Nah."

He smirked.

"I like them."

"WHAT-?!?"

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick bit his lip a little, muffling the laugh he almost let out as Wheatley exclaimed- he couldn't claim to really like or dislike them, since he wasn't one for the arts himself..

"Well I s'pose we can keep em in our room then," he said, biting back a laugh still..

"Since y' like the look of em so well, I'm sure we can fit em somewhere..."

Rick was already glancing at their open bedroom, trying to plan out where he'd be putting shelves or nails to hang paintings from...

[thefactualsphere]

Wheatleys eyes were squinting in a bit of disdain, staring right at Neil and his big smirky face.

"I think we should put them in the living room."

"No."

"I think they should go right above the fireplace."

"NO!!"

Wheatley presses his palms to his optic, letting out a muffled noise of vast displeasure.

"WE don't need human art, NONE of us are human-! And since theyre human art, we should think theyre ugly!"

"Literally where are you coming from with this. Besides we... we were human BEFORE."

"I wasnt!!! I think you're being discrimatory with. With that wording."

Neil began to laugh "Whattt???? What do you fucking mean???"

[adventuregunsphere]

Rick barely had room to interject between the two, let alone referee between whatever it was Wheatley was talking about-

"It's fine if he wants t' think that Neil- " he tried, barely getting in a word between the brief moment he had while Neil laughed at the other core.. "There's nothin' wrong with that.."

"I don't even remember nothin' fore I ended up in the bin, really.. "