emotionally-droning-pyrobot @emotionally-droning-pyrobot - Tumblr Blog

yknow, theres like 20+ other sapient robots :3

im sure theyd be glad to meet you!

"R-O-B-O-T?" He signed fast, clearly frustrated.

"What is the deal with everyone calling me that, it's not funny."

so, how are you holding up?

figured out whats wrong yet?

Reamus signed 'neck', 'speak', and 'broken'.

'E-N-G-I-E'-'fix'-'neck'.

He chuckled.

stay-chill-vibes

REBLOG IF YOU ARE HELLA BORED AND WOULDN’T MIND SOME CURIOUS ANONS.

[Hands you a peach pit] (⁠ʘ⁠ᴗ⁠ʘ⁠✿⁠)

"..."

*He signs 'no'. and places it down.*@

Reamus had thought about it and... He hadn't really seen any bots around. What had she been talking about...?

#pyrobot #tf2 #pyro #emotionally xyz mercs

hey did you hear the announcement

Reamus signed 'yes', then crossed his arms, muttering incoherently.

He then struck into a fast-paced signing session filled to the brim with colorful language about the Administrator's mother and father and something insulting about her age.

"Hi."

"Was told to introduce myself."

The pyrobot signed along with talking. He seemed to have upgraded! Sporting new gear.

"... Feels strange having so many new people around."

The voice he spoke with sounded like a talkbox soundboard.

"Name's Reamus. R-E-A-M-U-S."

He signed slower for emphasis on each letter.

"Glad to be back, folks."

#reamus #open #pyrobot #tf2

The Pyrobot approached the base, waving down someone unfamiliar, trying to shout again, once again finding their voice not there.

They were wearing RED, but nevermind that, if he could explain the situation, surely they could help. They could go back to base, heal up, get some sleep and everything could go back to normal.

Anne had been gently slicing off pieces of a pineapple using a large blade displaying the word 'GIANTKILLER' on the side. He slurped up another piece, wincing at the acidity. It tasted so good, but burned so bad...

He was suddenly interrupted by loud thumping footsteps and a low robotic droning, his head darted off to the direction of the noise, then paused.

'Ah, must be one of those other bots Sylvester told me about.'

He waved the other over, wiping off his blade and sheathing it.

'Ah, good, they're friendly-' He thought to himself, slowly approaching.

He reached out a hand to shake the others, once again trying to talk.

"RrrrRrRRRRrrrrrrr... Click." He internally huffed, not being able to talk was getting old very quickly.

He was hoping they'd get the hint he needed help.

Anne stood there for a moment, tilting their head. He'd never heard a voicebox that banged up before. Sounded like dial-up.

"Hey uh. Why don'tcha come with me and I can get you some help." He said nervously. Was Dell even on base right now? He hadn't fixed a bot in years.

He wrung his wrists and started backwards to lead the way.

Pyro tilted his head, following close and looking over the base... The faded text. How long had he been gone for? Couldn't have been that long.

He shook the thought from his mind and 'took a breath' before entering the base, almost feeling nervous jitters, hoping everyone would welcome him back with open arms. He still had a job, right?

Anne led Pyro through the base, looking down corridors, hoping to catch someone he could talk to to find Dell, or even someone who knew a little bit more than he did.

“One night, a wild young cowboy came in. Wild as the West Texas wind.” Dell hummed aloud to no-one but himself as he worked on his beloved truck, garage door propped open to let in the New Mexico breeze. He wiped his sweaty brow and let out a puff of breath from the efforts of his work.

It was just some routine work, something to keep his body preoccupied and mind distracted.

“Alright ol’ girl, think that should do it.” He smiled with a chuckle, slamming the hood shut, the sound reverberating through the base as his workshop door lie open. He kept it open more often now, figuring it was about time he stopped cooping himself up so much.

He stretched his back with a groan and wiped some oil off from his hands onto his dirtied undershirt, coveralls tied around his waist and goggles pushed up to his forehead. He shimmied on over to his fridge and popped open a cold beer, taking a swig, wondering what else the day had in store for him.

Pyro definitely knew the base better than Anne did, choosing to knock on doors he knew belonged to his fellow mercs, slowly getting more and more anxious as none of them answered.

Where was everyone?

At this time of day, everyone was usually gathered in the mess hall or the poker room. Places he'd find empty or quiet. Where was Scout darting down the hall, with Solly chasing quickly after in an angry frenzy?

Where was Heavy and Medic, telling tales that gave everyone who listened a sense of schadenfreude?

He'd never met Anne, nor some of the people he did see.

Was he at the wrong base? Was Team Fortress disbanded? They couldn't have been... He was only gone for a few months!

... Right?

There was one way to know for sure, so instead of aimlessly following this Anne character around, he headed straight for the one place on the damn map that was the same year-round.

Dell's workshop.

Dell heard the approaching metallic footsteps and didn’t think much of it, calling out to who he thought the bot was.

“Hey ‘Vester, ah was wonderin’ if ya could run a few tests for me on that sentry ya restored. Ah have a pretty crazy idea for it but-“ Dell’s chuckle quickly died off as he turned to face the Pyro bot in the doorway of his workshop, eyebrows rising behind his goggles.

“Oh, uh, hey there feller. Haven’t seen you before. Did you just boot back up online? Did one of the bots send you here?” Dell asked in an even yet cautious tone.

The Texan noticed that most, if not all of the sentient bots had some kind of outfit or paint job that distinguished them from the rest that represented or displayed their personality. So, seeing as the Pyro bot lacked any distinguishing features made Dell weary, not sure of what intentions the bot had.

'Bot? Dell, what the hell are you talking about?' He knew he probably didn't look like his Pyro at the moment, after all, he wasn't wearing his usual gear.

He ignored the thought for a moment, trying to speak, but instead of the semi-discernible voice of a Pyro-bot, all that came out was a low droning 'RRRRRRRRRRR. Click.'

Frustrated, the bot clawed at their neck, not violently, just desperately.

He looked around the workshop and then made a writing motion with his hands.

'C'mon Dell, it's me, Reamus, I haven't been gone for long, surely you'd think if a Pyro came strolling in, he'd be yours.'

He pointed towards the notepad nearby.

“Alright alright, calm down now. Don’t wanna damage that voicebox more than it already is.” Dell advised in a reassuring tone as he made his way over to the notepad, picking up a pen lying near it.

He then walked over to the bot, holding out the two objects, eyeing them curiously, looking for any more damaged areas on the surface.

‘Poor thang. Hopefully Sylvester can help them warm up to the place.’

“Well, you seem to know what you wanna say, but ah’m Dell, Dell Conagher. Ah’ll be able to fix you up if you’ll allow it, shouldn’t be too difficult.” The man informed, placing his hands on his hips, metallic digits thrumming lightly against his side.

'Don't think I've ever heard your last name before... Which is strange because the whole team was pretty close.'

He felt confused. He was an Engineer, how was he gonna help him? Unless he'd been helping out by taking double shifts at the clinic, Medic always could use a hand. Solly and Scout always getting into trouble... That and himself.

Trusting who he believed to be an old and dear friend, he gently nodded, scrawling sporadically. God, he could 'feel' the ache in his joints.

'It's me'. He started. It was simple enough, it would get the point across. 'Reamus'.

He handed the notepad over, feeling a jolt of anxiety.

Dell took the notepad with a nod and read it over. Then he read it over again. And again.

His face contorted with pained confusion, shaking his head slightly.

‘Reamus…ah never gave the lil’ firebug a proper goodbye…’

Dell cleared his throat and shook his head more, handing the notepad back.

“That ain’t…ah’m sorry, but yer confused. You…you were built based off Reamus, but you ain’t…them. Ya just got gathered data on them, is all.” Dell stated, feeling guilt bubble within him.

‘This one’s gonna be more difficult than Sylvester to fix…’

Reamus was really frustrated. How could he not see he was him? He was back! If only he knew where the heck his gear all ran off too.

He poked at the name on the board and pointed at himself again assertively.

He strained again through the voice box. "DDDDDDDRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrr. Click."

He frustratingly slammed the notepad back on the desk and sitting, rubbing his hands over his face. This was all so confusing. Even Dell seemed more salt and pepper than usual. Nothing felt right. Every familiar comfort was old and worn and different. Everything around him had changed, everything but him. He just held his face in his hands, giving a robotic wheeze.

Dell jumped a bit at the bot slamming the notepad down and sighed tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Oh boy.

“Look, ah’m sorry this is all frustratin’ to you. It’s a lot ta handle, but ah’m willing to help you. For starters, it seems like yer voice box module is damaged. Ah can see if ah have a spare piece lyin’ ‘round. Unless you know ASL?” Dell asked, brow raising behind his goggles.

Just like Spanish, French and German, the Texan had also learned ASL for his PhDs, but it had been a long while since he’d last spoken it, and wondered if he’d even recognize many signs.

He robotically wheezed again, lifting his hand into a fist and shaking 'Yes' and nodded his head. One of the things he also shared in common with the real Pyro, he had a databank full of ASL.

Finally, a decent way of communicating. He remembered he preferred this way before going missing anyways. Words always found a way to be complicated and misconstrued, but although ASL was expressive, it had a much more direct tone, he found.

He took his open palm and rubbed it against his chest signing 'please' and then pointed back to his throat. Although ASL was preferred, he somewhat missed the sound of his own voice.

Dell seemed to lighten up and nod, expression seeming to soften as he understood the pyro bot.

“Sure thang. Make yerself comfortable, shouldn’t be too long ta find the piece.” The man reassured before heading off into the parts and scrap area of his workshop, rummaging through it.

The workshop itself hadn’t changed too much since the Pyro bot had last seen it, concrete walls still decorated with blueprints and papers like back in the day.

Though, Dell himself had looked older as the bot had noticed earlier, now with a full beard and a few more creases on his face. His gunslinger seemed newer, or more updated as well, and the spring in his step he usually had wasn’t as prominent.

The continents of the workshop itself had also drastically changed; one part of the room seemed dedicated to someone else entirely. Where Sentry and Dispenser pieces usually sat waiting to be repaired were unlabeled personal projects. Hell, the only piece of Mann Co. equipment in sight was a small mini-sentry, seemingly deactivated for the moment.

Above all, the workshop, like the base was…quieter.

Reamus nervously shook his leg, he didn't like how much everything had changed. Dell was still here but were any of the others?

Was SHE still in charge? She had been nice to himself, not so much his beloved teammates.

He started panicking thinking of how much everything had changed. How Dell didn't believe it was him.

If Dell didn't believe he was him, would he try to hurt him?

No. No no no. No. Dell wasn't like that, not like a Spy. If he had meant to hurt him, he would've done it already. Quick and straight to the point.

There was no reason to worry.

Soon enough the engineer came back with a pyro bot voice box module, hands smeared with fresh oil stains and grease.

“Here we are. Luckily this module here is intact an’ undamaged, so it should serve ya well.” Dell grinned, placing it on the desk. He then pulled out a wrench, motioning to his own neck.

“Thankfully the voice box is easy ta replace, no powering down or any extra bits required. Ah’ll just pop that sucker out, pop this new one in, and you’ll soon be talkin’ again. Or, Pyro talk, anyways.”

Dell expression grew soft as he hooked his thumbs in his overall pockets, looking almost sympathetic.

“Ah’ll be careful and slow, alright? Ya can trust me, pardner. Ah ain’t lookin’ ta hurt ya, just wanna help.”

Reamus in an instant began backing away, covering it's robotic throat, droning harder, grinding the voicebox in a dull hiss.

'No!' He signed. 'Not while I'm awake!' He signed faster, more aggressively. Then put his hands to his throat again, shielding it. He remembered Medic putting him to sleep countless times for every procedure he'd ever needed. The only time blood and wounds were celebrated was on the battlefield.

'Are you-' He signed quickly and then stopped before he could sign 'insane', and took a moment to turn away and curl up, a sort of quick clicking wheeze emanating from the voicebox, imitating hyperventilating.

The Texan stared down at Reamus incredulously, brows furrowed in confusion.

Why was this bot so panicked? Removing a voice module wouldn’t hurt at all, nor damage anything…

The man then thinks back to how the bot seemed absolutely certain they were Reamus, a living being. And it even knew ASL, just like the real Reamus.

And to top it all off, Reamus did have the phenomenon Dell and Ludwig discovered and named ‘Pyrovision’…

Then it clicked. It was a theory, a rocky one at that, but Dell got a gist of what was happening, of what Reamus was seeing.

The man slowly walked over to where Reamus was and crouched down, keeping his distance as to not scare them. He lifted his goggles onto his forehead and sighed, holding out his hands.

“Ah’m…ah’m sorry fer sayin’ that. Ah misunderstood the situation. This is all…new to me, an’ ah apologize fer makin’ that mistake. Ah can still fix yer voice, an’ ah’ll make sure yer…sedated when done so. You won’t feel any pain, just a simple operation. Alright?…”

Reamus eased visibly, the wheezing and clicking came to a halt as he uncovered his face and just stared at him, then gave a small, silent nod, then signed 'please' again. And 'thank you'.

His gears felt slow. He was tired. In a strange way he'd never before, lonely in his skin. He hoped being able to talk would bring back his spark.

After this, he'd find his lighter. He'd feel safer having it back.

The man let out a quiet sigh of relief as he nodded, seeing that his theory was correct.

“Heh, no problem kiddo. C’mon, the faster we fix ya up, the better you’ll feel.”

Dell smiled reassuring, then stood and over to his workbench. He set up a reclined chair for Reamus to sit in as he booted up his computer, typing in certain commands to ready the bot for ‘sedation’.

“You won’t be under long at all, ah promise. Ah can even make sure all of your other systems- er, organs, are all good ta go as well. Seems you’ve been gone fer a bit so ah wanna make sure ya get a clean bill of health.”

'Thank you' he signed again, clearly much more relaxed.

'Do what you need to, I trust you'.

And from there, Reamus did whatever Dell asked of him, seemingly in much better spirits given the circumstances... It's a shame, though. He believed wholeheartedly he was Reamus. Maybe he'd believe being a bot eventually, that much is true.

But it's doubtful he'd ever let go of what he believed to be his name.

#im glad! :>>

The Pyrobot approached the base, waving down someone unfamiliar, trying to shout again, once again finding their voice not there.

They were wearing RED, but nevermind that, if he could explain the situation, surely they could help. They could go back to base, heal up, get some sleep and everything could go back to normal.

He was suddenly interrupted by loud thumping footsteps and a low robotic droning, his head darted off to the direction of the noise, then paused.

'Ah, must be one of those other bots Sylvester told me about.'

He waved the other over, wiping off his blade and sheathing it.

'Ah, good, they're friendly-' He thought to himself, slowly approaching.

He reached out a hand to shake the others, once again trying to talk.

"RrrrRrRRRRrrrrrrr... Click." He internally huffed, not being able to talk was getting old very quickly.

He was hoping they'd get the hint he needed help.

Anne stood there for a moment, tilting their head. He'd never heard a voicebox that banged up before. Sounded like dial-up.

"Hey uh. Why don'tcha come with me and I can get you some help." He said nervously. Was Dell even on base right now? He hadn't fixed a bot in years.

He wrung his wrists and started backwards to lead the way.

Pyro tilted his head, following close and looking over the base... The faded text. How long had he been gone for? Couldn't have been that long.

He shook the thought from his mind and 'took a breath' before entering the base, almost feeling nervous jitters, hoping everyone would welcome him back with open arms. He still had a job, right?

Anne led Pyro through the base, looking down corridors, hoping to catch someone he could talk to to find Dell, or even someone who knew a little bit more than he did.

It was just some routine work, something to keep his body preoccupied and mind distracted.

Pyro definitely knew the base better than Anne did, choosing to knock on doors he knew belonged to his fellow mercs, slowly getting more and more anxious as none of them answered.

Where was everyone?

Where was Heavy and Medic, telling tales that gave everyone who listened a sense of schadenfreude?

He'd never met Anne, nor some of the people he did see.

Was he at the wrong base? Was Team Fortress disbanded? They couldn't have been... He was only gone for a few months!

... Right?

There was one way to know for sure, so instead of aimlessly following this Anne character around, he headed straight for the one place on the damn map that was the same year-round.

Dell's workshop.

Dell heard the approaching metallic footsteps and didn’t think much of it, calling out to who he thought the bot was.

“Oh, uh, hey there feller. Haven’t seen you before. Did you just boot back up online? Did one of the bots send you here?” Dell asked in an even yet cautious tone.

'Bot? Dell, what the hell are you talking about?' He knew he probably didn't look like his Pyro at the moment, after all, he wasn't wearing his usual gear.

He ignored the thought for a moment, trying to speak, but instead of the semi-discernible voice of a Pyro-bot, all that came out was a low droning 'RRRRRRRRRRR. Click.'

Frustrated, the bot clawed at their neck, not violently, just desperately.

He looked around the workshop and then made a writing motion with his hands.

'C'mon Dell, it's me, Reamus, I haven't been gone for long, surely you'd think if a Pyro came strolling in, he'd be yours.'

He pointed towards the notepad nearby.

He then walked over to the bot, holding out the two objects, eyeing them curiously, looking for any more damaged areas on the surface.

‘Poor thang. Hopefully Sylvester can help them warm up to the place.’

'Don't think I've ever heard your last name before... Which is strange because the whole team was pretty close.'

Trusting who he believed to be an old and dear friend, he gently nodded, scrawling sporadically. God, he could 'feel' the ache in his joints.

'It's me'. He started. It was simple enough, it would get the point across. 'Reamus'.

He handed the notepad over, feeling a jolt of anxiety.

Dell took the notepad with a nod and read it over. Then he read it over again. And again.

His face contorted with pained confusion, shaking his head slightly.

‘Reamus…ah never gave the lil’ firebug a proper goodbye…’

Dell cleared his throat and shook his head more, handing the notepad back.

‘This one’s gonna be more difficult than Sylvester to fix…’

Reamus was really frustrated. How could he not see he was him? He was back! If only he knew where the heck his gear all ran off too.

He poked at the name on the board and pointed at himself again assertively.

He strained again through the voice box. "DDDDDDDRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrr. Click."

Dell jumped a bit at the bot slamming the notepad down and sighed tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Oh boy.

Just like Spanish, French and German, the Texan had also learned ASL for his PhDs, but it had been a long while since he’d last spoken it, and wondered if he’d even recognize many signs.

He robotically wheezed again, lifting his hand into a fist and shaking 'Yes' and nodded his head. One of the things he also shared in common with the real Pyro, he had a databank full of ASL.

He took his open palm and rubbed it against his chest signing 'please' and then pointed back to his throat. Although ASL was preferred, he somewhat missed the sound of his own voice.

Dell seemed to lighten up and nod, expression seeming to soften as he understood the pyro bot.

“Sure thang. Make yerself comfortable, shouldn’t be too long ta find the piece.” The man reassured before heading off into the parts and scrap area of his workshop, rummaging through it.

The workshop itself hadn’t changed too much since the Pyro bot had last seen it, concrete walls still decorated with blueprints and papers like back in the day.

Above all, the workshop, like the base was…quieter.

Reamus nervously shook his leg, he didn't like how much everything had changed. Dell was still here but were any of the others?

Was SHE still in charge? She had been nice to himself, not so much his beloved teammates.

He started panicking thinking of how much everything had changed. How Dell didn't believe it was him.

If Dell didn't believe he was him, would he try to hurt him?

No. No no no. No. Dell wasn't like that, not like a Spy. If he had meant to hurt him, he would've done it already. Quick and straight to the point.

There was no reason to worry.

Soon enough the engineer came back with a pyro bot voice box module, hands smeared with fresh oil stains and grease.

“Here we are. Luckily this module here is intact an’ undamaged, so it should serve ya well.” Dell grinned, placing it on the desk. He then pulled out a wrench, motioning to his own neck.

Dell expression grew soft as he hooked his thumbs in his overall pockets, looking almost sympathetic.

“Ah’ll be careful and slow, alright? Ya can trust me, pardner. Ah ain’t lookin’ ta hurt ya, just wanna help.”

Reamus in an instant began backing away, covering it's robotic throat, droning harder, grinding the voicebox in a dull hiss.

The Texan stared down at Reamus incredulously, brows furrowed in confusion.

Why was this bot so panicked? Removing a voice module wouldn’t hurt at all, nor damage anything…

The man then thinks back to how the bot seemed absolutely certain they were Reamus, a living being. And it even knew ASL, just like the real Reamus.

And to top it all off, Reamus did have the phenomenon Dell and Ludwig discovered and named ‘Pyrovision’…

Then it clicked. It was a theory, a rocky one at that, but Dell got a gist of what was happening, of what Reamus was seeing.

The man slowly walked over to where Reamus was and crouched down, keeping his distance as to not scare them. He lifted his goggles onto his forehead and sighed, holding out his hands.

Reamus eased visibly, the wheezing and clicking came to a halt as he uncovered his face and just stared at him, then gave a small, silent nod, then signed 'please' again. And 'thank you'.

His gears felt slow. He was tired. In a strange way he'd never before, lonely in his skin. He hoped being able to talk would bring back his spark.

After this, he'd find his lighter. He'd feel safer having it back.

#YIPPPPIEEE #a roboboy

The Pyrobot approached the base, waving down someone unfamiliar, trying to shout again, once again finding their voice not there.

They were wearing RED, but nevermind that, if he could explain the situation, surely they could help. They could go back to base, heal up, get some sleep and everything could go back to normal.

He was suddenly interrupted by loud thumping footsteps and a low robotic droning, his head darted off to the direction of the noise, then paused.

'Ah, must be one of those other bots Sylvester told me about.'

He waved the other over, wiping off his blade and sheathing it.

'Ah, good, they're friendly-' He thought to himself, slowly approaching.

He reached out a hand to shake the others, once again trying to talk.

"RrrrRrRRRRrrrrrrr... Click." He internally huffed, not being able to talk was getting old very quickly.

He was hoping they'd get the hint he needed help.

Anne stood there for a moment, tilting their head. He'd never heard a voicebox that banged up before. Sounded like dial-up.

"Hey uh. Why don'tcha come with me and I can get you some help." He said nervously. Was Dell even on base right now? He hadn't fixed a bot in years.

He wrung his wrists and started backwards to lead the way.

Pyro tilted his head, following close and looking over the base... The faded text. How long had he been gone for? Couldn't have been that long.

He shook the thought from his mind and 'took a breath' before entering the base, almost feeling nervous jitters, hoping everyone would welcome him back with open arms. He still had a job, right?

Anne led Pyro through the base, looking down corridors, hoping to catch someone he could talk to to find Dell, or even someone who knew a little bit more than he did.

It was just some routine work, something to keep his body preoccupied and mind distracted.

Pyro definitely knew the base better than Anne did, choosing to knock on doors he knew belonged to his fellow mercs, slowly getting more and more anxious as none of them answered.

Where was everyone?

Where was Heavy and Medic, telling tales that gave everyone who listened a sense of schadenfreude?

He'd never met Anne, nor some of the people he did see.

Was he at the wrong base? Was Team Fortress disbanded? They couldn't have been... He was only gone for a few months!

... Right?

There was one way to know for sure, so instead of aimlessly following this Anne character around, he headed straight for the one place on the damn map that was the same year-round.

Dell's workshop.

Dell heard the approaching metallic footsteps and didn’t think much of it, calling out to who he thought the bot was.

“Oh, uh, hey there feller. Haven’t seen you before. Did you just boot back up online? Did one of the bots send you here?” Dell asked in an even yet cautious tone.

'Bot? Dell, what the hell are you talking about?' He knew he probably didn't look like his Pyro at the moment, after all, he wasn't wearing his usual gear.

He ignored the thought for a moment, trying to speak, but instead of the semi-discernible voice of a Pyro-bot, all that came out was a low droning 'RRRRRRRRRRR. Click.'

Frustrated, the bot clawed at their neck, not violently, just desperately.

He looked around the workshop and then made a writing motion with his hands.

'C'mon Dell, it's me, Reamus, I haven't been gone for long, surely you'd think if a Pyro came strolling in, he'd be yours.'

He pointed towards the notepad nearby.

He then walked over to the bot, holding out the two objects, eyeing them curiously, looking for any more damaged areas on the surface.

‘Poor thang. Hopefully Sylvester can help them warm up to the place.’

'Don't think I've ever heard your last name before... Which is strange because the whole team was pretty close.'

Trusting who he believed to be an old and dear friend, he gently nodded, scrawling sporadically. God, he could 'feel' the ache in his joints.

'It's me'. He started. It was simple enough, it would get the point across. 'Reamus'.

He handed the notepad over, feeling a jolt of anxiety.

Dell took the notepad with a nod and read it over. Then he read it over again. And again.

His face contorted with pained confusion, shaking his head slightly.

‘Reamus…ah never gave the lil’ firebug a proper goodbye…’

Dell cleared his throat and shook his head more, handing the notepad back.

‘This one’s gonna be more difficult than Sylvester to fix…’

Reamus was really frustrated. How could he not see he was him? He was back! If only he knew where the heck his gear all ran off too.

He poked at the name on the board and pointed at himself again assertively.

He strained again through the voice box. "DDDDDDDRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrr. Click."

Dell jumped a bit at the bot slamming the notepad down and sighed tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Oh boy.

Just like Spanish, French and German, the Texan had also learned ASL for his PhDs, but it had been a long while since he’d last spoken it, and wondered if he’d even recognize many signs.

He robotically wheezed again, lifting his hand into a fist and shaking 'Yes' and nodded his head. One of the things he also shared in common with the real Pyro, he had a databank full of ASL.

He took his open palm and rubbed it against his chest signing 'please' and then pointed back to his throat. Although ASL was preferred, he somewhat missed the sound of his own voice.

Dell seemed to lighten up and nod, expression seeming to soften as he understood the pyro bot.

“Sure thang. Make yerself comfortable, shouldn’t be too long ta find the piece.” The man reassured before heading off into the parts and scrap area of his workshop, rummaging through it.

The workshop itself hadn’t changed too much since the Pyro bot had last seen it, concrete walls still decorated with blueprints and papers like back in the day.

Above all, the workshop, like the base was…quieter.

Reamus nervously shook his leg, he didn't like how much everything had changed. Dell was still here but were any of the others?

Was SHE still in charge? She had been nice to himself, not so much his beloved teammates.

He started panicking thinking of how much everything had changed. How Dell didn't believe it was him.

If Dell didn't believe he was him, would he try to hurt him?

No. No no no. No. Dell wasn't like that, not like a Spy. If he had meant to hurt him, he would've done it already. Quick and straight to the point.

There was no reason to worry.

Soon enough the engineer came back with a pyro bot voice box module, hands smeared with fresh oil stains and grease.

“Here we are. Luckily this module here is intact an’ undamaged, so it should serve ya well.” Dell grinned, placing it on the desk. He then pulled out a wrench, motioning to his own neck.

Dell expression grew soft as he hooked his thumbs in his overall pockets, looking almost sympathetic.

“Ah’ll be careful and slow, alright? Ya can trust me, pardner. Ah ain’t lookin’ ta hurt ya, just wanna help.”

#my man really do be believin hes human

Reamus in an instant began backing away, covering it's robotic throat, droning harder, grinding the voicebox in a dull hiss.

The Pyrobot approached the base, waving down someone unfamiliar, trying to shout again, once again finding their voice not there.

They were wearing RED, but nevermind that, if he could explain the situation, surely they could help. They could go back to base, heal up, get some sleep and everything could go back to normal.

He was suddenly interrupted by loud thumping footsteps and a low robotic droning, his head darted off to the direction of the noise, then paused.

'Ah, must be one of those other bots Sylvester told me about.'

He waved the other over, wiping off his blade and sheathing it.

'Ah, good, they're friendly-' He thought to himself, slowly approaching.

He reached out a hand to shake the others, once again trying to talk.

"RrrrRrRRRRrrrrrrr... Click." He internally huffed, not being able to talk was getting old very quickly.

He was hoping they'd get the hint he needed help.

Anne stood there for a moment, tilting their head. He'd never heard a voicebox that banged up before. Sounded like dial-up.

"Hey uh. Why don'tcha come with me and I can get you some help." He said nervously. Was Dell even on base right now? He hadn't fixed a bot in years.

He wrung his wrists and started backwards to lead the way.

Pyro tilted his head, following close and looking over the base... The faded text. How long had he been gone for? Couldn't have been that long.

He shook the thought from his mind and 'took a breath' before entering the base, almost feeling nervous jitters, hoping everyone would welcome him back with open arms. He still had a job, right?

Anne led Pyro through the base, looking down corridors, hoping to catch someone he could talk to to find Dell, or even someone who knew a little bit more than he did.

It was just some routine work, something to keep his body preoccupied and mind distracted.

Pyro definitely knew the base better than Anne did, choosing to knock on doors he knew belonged to his fellow mercs, slowly getting more and more anxious as none of them answered.

Where was everyone?

Where was Heavy and Medic, telling tales that gave everyone who listened a sense of schadenfreude?

He'd never met Anne, nor some of the people he did see.

Was he at the wrong base? Was Team Fortress disbanded? They couldn't have been... He was only gone for a few months!

... Right?

There was one way to know for sure, so instead of aimlessly following this Anne character around, he headed straight for the one place on the damn map that was the same year-round.

Dell's workshop.

Dell heard the approaching metallic footsteps and didn’t think much of it, calling out to who he thought the bot was.

“Oh, uh, hey there feller. Haven’t seen you before. Did you just boot back up online? Did one of the bots send you here?” Dell asked in an even yet cautious tone.

'Bot? Dell, what the hell are you talking about?' He knew he probably didn't look like his Pyro at the moment, after all, he wasn't wearing his usual gear.

He ignored the thought for a moment, trying to speak, but instead of the semi-discernible voice of a Pyro-bot, all that came out was a low droning 'RRRRRRRRRRR. Click.'

Frustrated, the bot clawed at their neck, not violently, just desperately.

He looked around the workshop and then made a writing motion with his hands.

'C'mon Dell, it's me, Reamus, I haven't been gone for long, surely you'd think if a Pyro came strolling in, he'd be yours.'

He pointed towards the notepad nearby.

He then walked over to the bot, holding out the two objects, eyeing them curiously, looking for any more damaged areas on the surface.

‘Poor thang. Hopefully Sylvester can help them warm up to the place.’

'Don't think I've ever heard your last name before... Which is strange because the whole team was pretty close.'

Trusting who he believed to be an old and dear friend, he gently nodded, scrawling sporadically. God, he could 'feel' the ache in his joints.

'It's me'. He started. It was simple enough, it would get the point across. 'Reamus'.

He handed the notepad over, feeling a jolt of anxiety.

Dell took the notepad with a nod and read it over. Then he read it over again. And again.

His face contorted with pained confusion, shaking his head slightly.

‘Reamus…ah never gave the lil’ firebug a proper goodbye…’

Dell cleared his throat and shook his head more, handing the notepad back.

‘This one’s gonna be more difficult than Sylvester to fix…’

Reamus was really frustrated. How could he not see he was him? He was back! If only he knew where the heck his gear all ran off too.

He poked at the name on the board and pointed at himself again assertively.

He strained again through the voice box. "DDDDDDDRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrr. Click."

Dell jumped a bit at the bot slamming the notepad down and sighed tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Oh boy.

Just like Spanish, French and German, the Texan had also learned ASL for his PhDs, but it had been a long while since he’d last spoken it, and wondered if he’d even recognize many signs.

He robotically wheezed again, lifting his hand into a fist and shaking 'Yes' and nodded his head. One of the things he also shared in common with the real Pyro, he had a databank full of ASL.

He took his open palm and rubbed it against his chest signing 'please' and then pointed back to his throat. Although ASL was preferred, he somewhat missed the sound of his own voice.

Dell seemed to lighten up and nod, expression seeming to soften as he understood the pyro bot.

“Sure thang. Make yerself comfortable, shouldn’t be too long ta find the piece.” The man reassured before heading off into the parts and scrap area of his workshop, rummaging through it.

The workshop itself hadn’t changed too much since the Pyro bot had last seen it, concrete walls still decorated with blueprints and papers like back in the day.

Above all, the workshop, like the base was…quieter.

Reamus nervously shook his leg, he didn't like how much everything had changed. Dell was still here but were any of the others?

Was SHE still in charge? She had been nice to himself, not so much his beloved teammates.

He started panicking thinking of how much everything had changed. How Dell didn't believe it was him.

If Dell didn't believe he was him, would he try to hurt him?

No. No no no. No. Dell wasn't like that, not like a Spy. If he had meant to hurt him, he would've done it already. Quick and straight to the point.

There was no reason to worry.

The Pyrobot approached the base, waving down someone unfamiliar, trying to shout again, once again finding their voice not there.

They were wearing RED, but nevermind that, if he could explain the situation, surely they could help. They could go back to base, heal up, get some sleep and everything could go back to normal.

He was suddenly interrupted by loud thumping footsteps and a low robotic droning, his head darted off to the direction of the noise, then paused.

'Ah, must be one of those other bots Sylvester told me about.'

He waved the other over, wiping off his blade and sheathing it.

'Ah, good, they're friendly-' He thought to himself, slowly approaching.

He reached out a hand to shake the others, once again trying to talk.

"RrrrRrRRRRrrrrrrr... Click." He internally huffed, not being able to talk was getting old very quickly.

He was hoping they'd get the hint he needed help.

Anne stood there for a moment, tilting their head. He'd never heard a voicebox that banged up before. Sounded like dial-up.

"Hey uh. Why don'tcha come with me and I can get you some help." He said nervously. Was Dell even on base right now? He hadn't fixed a bot in years.

He wrung his wrists and started backwards to lead the way.

Pyro tilted his head, following close and looking over the base... The faded text. How long had he been gone for? Couldn't have been that long.

He shook the thought from his mind and 'took a breath' before entering the base, almost feeling nervous jitters, hoping everyone would welcome him back with open arms. He still had a job, right?

Anne led Pyro through the base, looking down corridors, hoping to catch someone he could talk to to find Dell, or even someone who knew a little bit more than he did.

It was just some routine work, something to keep his body preoccupied and mind distracted.

Pyro definitely knew the base better than Anne did, choosing to knock on doors he knew belonged to his fellow mercs, slowly getting more and more anxious as none of them answered.

Where was everyone?

Where was Heavy and Medic, telling tales that gave everyone who listened a sense of schadenfreude?

He'd never met Anne, nor some of the people he did see.

Was he at the wrong base? Was Team Fortress disbanded? They couldn't have been... He was only gone for a few months!

... Right?

There was one way to know for sure, so instead of aimlessly following this Anne character around, he headed straight for the one place on the damn map that was the same year-round.

Dell's workshop.

Dell heard the approaching metallic footsteps and didn’t think much of it, calling out to who he thought the bot was.

“Oh, uh, hey there feller. Haven’t seen you before. Did you just boot back up online? Did one of the bots send you here?” Dell asked in an even yet cautious tone.

'Bot? Dell, what the hell are you talking about?' He knew he probably didn't look like his Pyro at the moment, after all, he wasn't wearing his usual gear.

He ignored the thought for a moment, trying to speak, but instead of the semi-discernible voice of a Pyro-bot, all that came out was a low droning 'RRRRRRRRRRR. Click.'

Frustrated, the bot clawed at their neck, not violently, just desperately.

He looked around the workshop and then made a writing motion with his hands.

'C'mon Dell, it's me, Reamus, I haven't been gone for long, surely you'd think if a Pyro came strolling in, he'd be yours.'

He pointed towards the notepad nearby.

He then walked over to the bot, holding out the two objects, eyeing them curiously, looking for any more damaged areas on the surface.

‘Poor thang. Hopefully Sylvester can help them warm up to the place.’

'Don't think I've ever heard your last name before... Which is strange because the whole team was pretty close.'

Trusting who he believed to be an old and dear friend, he gently nodded, scrawling sporadically. God, he could 'feel' the ache in his joints.

'It's me'. He started. It was simple enough, it would get the point across. 'Reamus'.

He handed the notepad over, feeling a jolt of anxiety.

Dell took the notepad with a nod and read it over. Then he read it over again. And again.

His face contorted with pained confusion, shaking his head slightly.

‘Reamus…ah never gave the lil’ firebug a proper goodbye…’

Dell cleared his throat and shook his head more, handing the notepad back.

‘This one’s gonna be more difficult than Sylvester to fix…’

Reamus was really frustrated. How could he not see he was him? He was back! If only he knew where the heck his gear all ran off too.

He poked at the name on the board and pointed at himself again assertively.

He strained again through the voice box. "DDDDDDDRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrr. Click."

Dell jumped a bit at the bot slamming the notepad down and sighed tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Oh boy.

Just like Spanish, French and German, the Texan had also learned ASL for his PhDs, but it had been a long while since he’d last spoken it, and wondered if he’d even recognize many signs.

He robotically wheezed again, lifting his hand into a fist and shaking 'Yes' and nodded his head. One of the things he also shared in common with the real Pyro, he had a databank full of ASL.

He took his open palm and rubbed it against his chest signing 'please' and then pointed back to his throat. Although ASL was preferred, he somewhat missed the sound of his own voice.

#I FOUNS MY PHONE

The Pyrobot approached the base, waving down someone unfamiliar, trying to shout again, once again finding their voice not there.

They were wearing RED, but nevermind that, if he could explain the situation, surely they could help. They could go back to base, heal up, get some sleep and everything could go back to normal.

He was suddenly interrupted by loud thumping footsteps and a low robotic droning, his head darted off to the direction of the noise, then paused.

'Ah, must be one of those other bots Sylvester told me about.'

He waved the other over, wiping off his blade and sheathing it.

'Ah, good, they're friendly-' He thought to himself, slowly approaching.

He reached out a hand to shake the others, once again trying to talk.

"RrrrRrRRRRrrrrrrr... Click." He internally huffed, not being able to talk was getting old very quickly.

He was hoping they'd get the hint he needed help.

Anne stood there for a moment, tilting their head. He'd never heard a voicebox that banged up before. Sounded like dial-up.

"Hey uh. Why don'tcha come with me and I can get you some help." He said nervously. Was Dell even on base right now? He hadn't fixed a bot in years.

He wrung his wrists and started backwards to lead the way.

Pyro tilted his head, following close and looking over the base... The faded text. How long had he been gone for? Couldn't have been that long.

He shook the thought from his mind and 'took a breath' before entering the base, almost feeling nervous jitters, hoping everyone would welcome him back with open arms. He still had a job, right?

Anne led Pyro through the base, looking down corridors, hoping to catch someone he could talk to to find Dell, or even someone who knew a little bit more than he did.

It was just some routine work, something to keep his body preoccupied and mind distracted.

Pyro definitely knew the base better than Anne did, choosing to knock on doors he knew belonged to his fellow mercs, slowly getting more and more anxious as none of them answered.

Where was everyone?

Where was Heavy and Medic, telling tales that gave everyone who listened a sense of schadenfreude?

He'd never met Anne, nor some of the people he did see.

Was he at the wrong base? Was Team Fortress disbanded? They couldn't have been... He was only gone for a few months!

... Right?

There was one way to know for sure, so instead of aimlessly following this Anne character around, he headed straight for the one place on the damn map that was the same year-round.

Dell's workshop.

Dell heard the approaching metallic footsteps and didn’t think much of it, calling out to who he thought the bot was.

“Oh, uh, hey there feller. Haven’t seen you before. Did you just boot back up online? Did one of the bots send you here?” Dell asked in an even yet cautious tone.

'Bot? Dell, what the hell are you talking about?' He knew he probably didn't look like his Pyro at the moment, after all, he wasn't wearing his usual gear.

He ignored the thought for a moment, trying to speak, but instead of the semi-discernible voice of a Pyro-bot, all that came out was a low droning 'RRRRRRRRRRR. Click.'

Frustrated, the bot clawed at their neck, not violently, just desperately.

He looked around the workshop and then made a writing motion with his hands.

'C'mon Dell, it's me, Reamus, I haven't been gone for long, surely you'd think if a Pyro came strolling in, he'd be yours.'

He pointed towards the notepad nearby.

He then walked over to the bot, holding out the two objects, eyeing them curiously, looking for any more damaged areas on the surface.

‘Poor thang. Hopefully Sylvester can help them warm up to the place.’

'Don't think I've ever heard your last name before... Which is strange because the whole team was pretty close.'

Trusting who he believed to be an old and dear friend, he gently nodded, scrawling sporadically. God, he could 'feel' the ache in his joints.

'It's me'. He started. It was simple enough, it would get the point across. 'Reamus'.

He handed the notepad over, feeling a jolt of anxiety.

Dell took the notepad with a nod and read it over. Then he read it over again. And again.

His face contorted with pained confusion, shaking his head slightly.

‘Reamus…ah never gave the lil’ firebug a proper goodbye…’

Dell cleared his throat and shook his head more, handing the notepad back.

‘This one’s gonna be more difficult than Sylvester to fix…’