"THIS IS FOR THE GOOD"

:FORM A LINE YOU MACHINE OF OBEDIENCE:

[hallsoftreachery]

ᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴀɴᴢᴅɪᴋᴛᴀᴛᴏʀ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴇᴜᴄʜ ᴛᴀɴᴢᴇɴ ꜱᴇʜ'ɴ!

-indie oc rp blog-

-semi selective . multiship . multimuse-

-interacts from @tridentialsovereignty -

-the president & his right hand-

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Right this way. You want me ta get a wheel barrow ta push ya in or somthin? You look like yer havin a hard time standin" He fussed over the machine like its an ingured animal. He doesnt even flinch at the mention of a date so far in the future.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt huffs "I can- Carry myself just fine-" as it moves, it continues using the sniper rifle as a crutch but seems much more capable to move around. Its boots get stuck every so often on the dirt but it seems to be able to get them unstuck. It follows digilently, letting McGucket guide it.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford nods and sighs, leading the robot to his workshop. Its...rather hidden, oddly, and not nearly as welcoming looking as the farmhouse or the man himself. "Come on in" He smiles gently and opens the door, it creeks with rust and effort.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt makes a motion almost like a shudder when the door creaks, the place doesnt make it any more confident in Fiddleford's ability to fix it up, but there's not much it can do otherwise. "...Vintage." Is the only word it says to talk about the state of the workshop. Kunst looks around before finding an empty chair by what he guessed was the work table, resting the rifle against the wall nearby.

Before anything can be done to it, its hands pull up a... hologram? Yeah, a red holographic screen. There's a lot of warning signs, but after a moment of staring at it, Kunst closes it. "The damage is- Open wiring in- My arm." In the entirety of its arm, apparently too. Its quiet when it states the damage, as if ashamed of having been hurt. "My- My shoulder joint has slid off slightly and- and- My wires have been cut near my- my wrist"

Its voice seems to struggle a bit, losing that smoothness just slightly and getting more synthetized and robotic, like what we know as a vocaloid. It takes off the shoulder pieces from its left arm, then it unbuckles the sleeve, sliding it off along with the metal accents and the glove. Its arm is jointed at the elbow and shoulder like a doll, and its fingers are jointed very curiously. Its wrist is also jointed bu you cannot see it, only a triangle-like mark where it joins.

There's a blue liquid seeping from the shoulder joint, its slightly thick, but otherwise seems like a sort of coolant. As stated, its shoulder joint seems off, and its wrist has a massive cut like if a saw-blade had cut it. The same blue liquid pools inside of the cut, but inside you can see colored wires alongside the metal structuring.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford leans in and hums thoughtfully, not yet touching anything. He goes and puts on some gloves, then feels of the shoulder joint. "What if I just-" He pops it back into place like you would a humans dislocated shoulder.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's eyes flash white the moment the joint returns to its place, but it seems to fit perfectly in place. It doesnt speak but does move its shoulder a decent bit. "Surprising." It states, usually, with this amount of damage, it would simply have moved on to V6, abandoning its current shell as "trash", so of course it doesnt really know how to fix any of this type of thing.

"One of the easier fixes for my wrist could simply be soldering another piece of metal in the right shape onto it.." It muses to itself, it stares very intently at the "gash" on its wrist, analyzing its properties, quite literally eyeballing the measurements. "I'd rather not lose any more coolant while im away from the city, im unsure any of the things I could find here would work in the same way I need them to.." It keeps talking out loud to itself, and to be honest, car coolant could probably work on him

[papa-mcgucket]

"Oh, dont worry about that! I got plenty a coolent here my own self!" He smiles then rumages for a welding mask and puts it on, picking up some scrap metal and a blow torch. "Now, let me close up these wounds, then I'll get a look atcher insides!"

[hallsoftreachery]

In it's own weird robot way, aka by increasing the light from its eyes, it expresses a mild worry at the usage of a blow torch to try to fix these. Its biggest worry is that it wont be entirely smooth like before, but it voices none of that. "The measurement should be [blahblah], around this size in this amount of curvature with the curve beginning here"

The kunstprodukt speaks a bit more quietly, its free hand tracing the form onto the metal and leaving some sort of temporary marks on the metal. "There may be some leftover material..." It mutters, seemingly unthrilled about that. It stares for a moment but then simply looks away, moving its ponytail to its other shoulder so it doesnt singe, waiting for Fidds to finish helping it.

[papa-mcgucket]

He nods, understanding all the technicalities, and gets to work. He works fast and efficient, but also with good quality- by the situations standards. He pulls back and flips his mask up. He hums thoughtfully "That should be good fer a patch up. You want me to shine 'er up, or?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt is mildly impressed at the efficiency with which Fiddleford works with, and mild impressment from it is quite an amount, given that it doesnt tend to hold high standards for humans. "...That would be much appreciated" It answers the question. It doesnt like how it looks, its metallic white skin interrupted by the tone of scrap metals and soldering. It's never been one for scars.

While Fidd works on polishing up the patch-up, the Kunstprodukt removes the collar it wears, unbuckling the high belt it wears under its coat, and unbuttoning its shirt. All of this to open the two plates that make up its chest, they click open. "Voicebox... Voicebox.... Thats the most inconvinient voice method...." It mutters to itself, moving something around in there before returning to sitting idly. It was simply turning off a couple things that might make it harder to fix up whatever went wrong in there.

Whenever Fidd gets done, if he moves to seeing how its systems work from the inside, it will find a very impressive sight. The metal armature is in the way of course, but behind it are wires strung around it like muscle and veins, there's a whole RAM unit in there and multiple advanced processors, all surrounding a metal heart shaped object, cartoon heart, not real heart. There's fans closer to the joints which are kicking softly, whirring just the slightest.

Two of the wires that should be connected to it are entirely separate, they leak softly down onto the voice box, which is getting messed up due to this very liquid constantly falling onto it. Its a complex, but very detailed system.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford sands down and polishes the soldering he'd done, and even tries to color correct. He then looks at the insides and clicks his tongue. "Yer voice box aint the only inconvenient thin aboutcha. Yer more of an art peice than an efficient model, what with all this human like work-ature."

He gently runs his fingers across some wires with a mix of awe and annoyance. "Heres yer problem." He feels of the leaking wires and begins working on repairs. "Its like they wanted you to be able to bleed! Shoulda kept the coolant seperate, n'..." He continues mumbling to himself about the ethics of human-like robotic designs, and the superiority of more inanimate looking creatures.

[hallsoftreachery]

"Hm... I suppose that makes sense, given my creator.." It mutters to itself. "I suppose he wanted something that would give him some sort of familiarity, given he is the only one that makes repairs and adjustments to my physical body or my programs." The Kunstprodukt muses to itself. "Art piece... That makes sense.. Last I remember my name translates to Art Product in one of the languages of the old earth.." In german, he means in german.

Then comes the comment of his creator wanting him to be capable of bleeding, he stops for a moment. "I don't think he would make me like that. He adores me, the ability to bleed could be a compromise on our mission, he wouldn't build me with a weakness like that..." You know what they say about rivers in Egypt.

[papa-mcgucket]

He frowns softly at it. "Yeah...sure." He says gently with an unconvincing smile. Fiddleford knows all about denial. He'll feed into delusions till they're all thats left.

"I do think its neat ya look like this, if not at all convenient. Aaand...there! All patched up" He pulls away with a smile. "This part of ya, anyway. Any other issues? Bits that need replacin, coolant needs refilled?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt opens one of the screens that it had pulled out before, that red hologram casting a soft light onto its hand where its projected from. Its pretty cool that on the screens are deconstructions of its circuits that tell it where everything goes and how it should look alongside what might be damaged.

It marks the arm that just got fixed as "INJURY (?)" since it believes the arm to be injured despite being fixed. It marks the two wires that had gotten loose as fixed but the voicebox as "CAUTION". It marks the level of coolant to be a bit underneath average. Otherwise it seems the many other bodily functions the Kunstprodukt has still work perfectly.

"I do think I may need more coolant.. On the back of my neck there's a small hatch that will open, it's similar to refilling the water in a motor vehicle." It states. It leaves the screen floating there before using that same hand to open the hatch. "I might need to power down my voice box while it leaves its caution state too.. The fluid that fell onto it could damage it further"

The thing about powering down its voice box is that it won't be able to talk, and that is clearly an idea its not very thrilled about. Its very interesting that its so emotive for a machine made of code and metal, if you asked him, he would deny having the capability to feel, but that's clearly wrong.

[papa-mcgucket]

"I could replace it entierly if n' ya'd like me too! Looks pretty easy to replicate...I could shim-sham somthin up! Even make it waterproof! Or, uh, coolant proof, heh heh" He smiles kindly, clasping his hands together

[hallsoftreachery]

"You could? That would be.. Great." It mutters, unsure about showing any sign that it actually believes that Fidd can make something to properly replace it's parts. It looks away for a moment before bringing up a screen with... blueprints? "This is how my voicebox is built. I have archives of how everything built for me was made"

The Kunstprodukt ... slides the screen over? Apparently thats something its holograms can do, and as it said, it has the blueprints for its voicebox. In exchange, it powers of the voice box, moving its mouth to confirm it can't speak anymore. With a soft movement, it clicks the voice-box out of its spot on its chest, and hands it to Fiddleford, entrusting him with the box.

[papa-mcgucket]

He looks over the blueprints and takes the box. "Alright...I can do this, shouldnt take too long. Do you have a way ta power down? A sleep mode? I can wake ya back up when m' done."

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt looks uneasy about the idea of powering off, it never powers itself off unless its switching Versions. It takes a moment before it brings its hand up to its neck. Under the place where its jaw meets with its neck, there's a button. It makes sure McGucket sees it, before pressing down on it.

The light on the screen that imitates eyes disappears entirely, and its body slumps slightly, its arms falling, and its systems glowing a soft red from inside. Its really pretty the way that red glow casts the insides of its systems in a gentle light.

[papa-mcgucket]

A couple hours later, Fiddleford gently turns the machine back on. Its voicebox is fixed, replaced and repaired. Its coolant is refilled, too. He gently takes his hands off and smiles. "There...how are ya?" he asks softly

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's screen flashes before the lights settle, forming its eyes. It reaches for its power button, feeling the area to make sure everything was fine and being mildly surprised that McGucket didnt do anything wrong, it has very little trust in people. It lets out a soft humm once it finishes powering on.

"..Its fine." It answers, moving its hands around, readjusting itself to being awake. It holds its throat, there's a difference in how it feels to talk, its.. smoother, and it might have caught it off guard. It can feel that the coolant is a different brand than what it normally uses, yet it feels more refreshing than normal.

"I believe I never got your name." It asks, there's almost a hint of an emotion in its tone now. It asks, not making eye contact, instead, looking at its screens to tell how much time has passed, there's also a picture of a man on it, very handsome very attactive, and the Kunstprodukt seems to be staring at that instead.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, its a pleasure." He smiles, tilting his head to try and get a look at whatever it is the other is distracted by.

[hallsoftreachery]

"Much obliged for the repairs, McGucket." It nods before realizing he's trying to see the screen. It shows McGucket the screen after pulling up a few more images. There's a portrait picture of a man, and four different propaganda posters from what you can tell, all featuring the same man. "He's my maker, Der Große Tanzdiktator"

The man looks... "eccentric"? The word can't quite capture just how extreme the energy of the man is, even through images. A quick look at the man tells you that the Kunstprodukt was designed in his image. The same facial structure, the same facial hair, the same skin and seemingly the same height (given Kunst appears in one of the figures standing by him), and even their outfits have many similar aspects.

Two of the posters frame him as a force to be reckoned with, using that "He's Watching" ideology by framing his eyes specifically. Three of them frame him powerful, fun, and very, very, VERY, queer in their subtext. The portrait appears to be for some sort of identification. "He is whomst I must meet up with again, I had not finished my objective when I got transported to this world."

[papa-mcgucket]

"I see" He hums thoughtfully, looking the images over. "And ya...what, need ta time travel to get there?" He frowns at the idea. "Y'know, I know where ya could get a time travel thingamajig. Its broken, but im sure somone of yer disposition could fix it right up. Ya just have ta agree to somthin fer me." Theres a certain glint in his eye unfitting of his otherwise fatherly farmhand persona

[hallsoftreachery]

"Im unsure if time travel might be the way to go, but it might be the solution.." It muses to itself before hearing McGucket's idea. "Hm.. I suppose it wouldnt be harmful to aid you in exchange for the Time Travel Tool.. T^Cubed for ease of saying." It speaks calmly, accepting the trade. "What do you need me to do?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Theres these two men- pair of twins, on the other side of town. Theyve got a broken time machine- looks like a tape measure. They've been a' tryin' to fix it up. In exchange for tellin you how to get it, I need you ta make sure they never suceed in their time travelin attempts. Be it by just keepin the machine yerself or whatever means necessary." He pauses and glances at their rifle "Just, uh, dont kill em. That wouldnt be...preferable."

[hallsoftreachery]

"...Das Koloseum would disintegrate a human being, it was made to kill that which cannot be. I wouldnt dare use that against a human man." It mutters, shortly after though, it takes the gun from the holster on its thigh "I could use this if necessary." It muses to itself.

"Murder is a crime that can be committed in extreme situations, i will avoid it." It states, as if trying to assure that it wont kill anyone. It does leave its handgun on the table in order to assure this. "Do you know where they keep it? If you do that might be helpful. I could also act like i am some sort of time-traveling person that is there to claim it back."

As it speaks, it readjusts its clothing, closing its shirt back up and adjusting its accessories and reattaching its sleeve.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Actin like yer there to help em may be the best solution. Theyre paranoid, maniac criminals. Theyd do whatever it takes ta keep it. So, ya know, be carful." He smiles nervously.

[hallsoftreachery]

"I suppose it may be odd to say i am used to dealing with maniac paranoid criminals, wouldn't it?" The Kunstprodukt says before getting up, being able to rise to its full height of 8'2 this time without slumping over. Its a very imposing figure, and the shadow it casts even more so. "I suppose you dont have any method of transport that wont be suspicious, so I'll have to walk my way over. Quite inconvenient that they reside in the other side of town"

[nomeusstuff]

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Right this way. You want me ta get a wheel barrow ta push ya in or somthin? You look like yer havin a hard time standin" He fussed over the machine like its an ingured animal. He doesnt even flinch at the mention of a date so far in the future.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt huffs "I can- Carry myself just fine-" as it moves, it continues using the sniper rifle as a crutch but seems much more capable to move around. Its boots get stuck every so often on the dirt but it seems to be able to get them unstuck. It follows digilently, letting McGucket guide it.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford nods and sighs, leading the robot to his workshop. Its...rather hidden, oddly, and not nearly as welcoming looking as the farmhouse or the man himself. "Come on in" He smiles gently and opens the door, it creeks with rust and effort.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt makes a motion almost like a shudder when the door creaks, the place doesnt make it any more confident in Fiddleford's ability to fix it up, but there's not much it can do otherwise. "...Vintage." Is the only word it says to talk about the state of the workshop. Kunst looks around before finding an empty chair by what he guessed was the work table, resting the rifle against the wall nearby.

Before anything can be done to it, its hands pull up a... hologram? Yeah, a red holographic screen. There's a lot of warning signs, but after a moment of staring at it, Kunst closes it. "The damage is- Open wiring in- My arm." In the entirety of its arm, apparently too. Its quiet when it states the damage, as if ashamed of having been hurt. "My- My shoulder joint has slid off slightly and- and- My wires have been cut near my- my wrist"

Its voice seems to struggle a bit, losing that smoothness just slightly and getting more synthetized and robotic, like what we know as a vocaloid. It takes off the shoulder pieces from its left arm, then it unbuckles the sleeve, sliding it off along with the metal accents and the glove. Its arm is jointed at the elbow and shoulder like a doll, and its fingers are jointed very curiously. Its wrist is also jointed bu you cannot see it, only a triangle-like mark where it joins.

There's a blue liquid seeping from the shoulder joint, its slightly thick, but otherwise seems like a sort of coolant. As stated, its shoulder joint seems off, and its wrist has a massive cut like if a saw-blade had cut it. The same blue liquid pools inside of the cut, but inside you can see colored wires alongside the metal structuring.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford leans in and hums thoughtfully, not yet touching anything. He goes and puts on some gloves, then feels of the shoulder joint. "What if I just-" He pops it back into place like you would a humans dislocated shoulder.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's eyes flash white the moment the joint returns to its place, but it seems to fit perfectly in place. It doesnt speak but does move its shoulder a decent bit. "Surprising." It states, usually, with this amount of damage, it would simply have moved on to V6, abandoning its current shell as "trash", so of course it doesnt really know how to fix any of this type of thing.

"One of the easier fixes for my wrist could simply be soldering another piece of metal in the right shape onto it.." It muses to itself, it stares very intently at the "gash" on its wrist, analyzing its properties, quite literally eyeballing the measurements. "I'd rather not lose any more coolant while im away from the city, im unsure any of the things I could find here would work in the same way I need them to.." It keeps talking out loud to itself, and to be honest, car coolant could probably work on him

[papa-mcgucket]

"Oh, dont worry about that! I got plenty a coolent here my own self!" He smiles then rumages for a welding mask and puts it on, picking up some scrap metal and a blow torch. "Now, let me close up these wounds, then I'll get a look atcher insides!"

[hallsoftreachery]

In it's own weird robot way, aka by increasing the light from its eyes, it expresses a mild worry at the usage of a blow torch to try to fix these. Its biggest worry is that it wont be entirely smooth like before, but it voices none of that. "The measurement should be [blahblah], around this size in this amount of curvature with the curve beginning here"

The kunstprodukt speaks a bit more quietly, its free hand tracing the form onto the metal and leaving some sort of temporary marks on the metal. "There may be some leftover material..." It mutters, seemingly unthrilled about that. It stares for a moment but then simply looks away, moving its ponytail to its other shoulder so it doesnt singe, waiting for Fidds to finish helping it.

[papa-mcgucket]

He nods, understanding all the technicalities, and gets to work. He works fast and efficient, but also with good quality- by the situations standards. He pulls back and flips his mask up. He hums thoughtfully "That should be good fer a patch up. You want me to shine 'er up, or?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt is mildly impressed at the efficiency with which Fiddleford works with, and mild impressment from it is quite an amount, given that it doesnt tend to hold high standards for humans. "...That would be much appreciated" It answers the question. It doesnt like how it looks, its metallic white skin interrupted by the tone of scrap metals and soldering. It's never been one for scars.

While Fidd works on polishing up the patch-up, the Kunstprodukt removes the collar it wears, unbuckling the high belt it wears under its coat, and unbuttoning its shirt. All of this to open the two plates that make up its chest, they click open. "Voicebox... Voicebox.... Thats the most inconvinient voice method...." It mutters to itself, moving something around in there before returning to sitting idly. It was simply turning off a couple things that might make it harder to fix up whatever went wrong in there.

Whenever Fidd gets done, if he moves to seeing how its systems work from the inside, it will find a very impressive sight. The metal armature is in the way of course, but behind it are wires strung around it like muscle and veins, there's a whole RAM unit in there and multiple advanced processors, all surrounding a metal heart shaped object, cartoon heart, not real heart. There's fans closer to the joints which are kicking softly, whirring just the slightest.

Two of the wires that should be connected to it are entirely separate, they leak softly down onto the voice box, which is getting messed up due to this very liquid constantly falling onto it. Its a complex, but very detailed system.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford sands down and polishes the soldering he'd done, and even tries to color correct. He then looks at the insides and clicks his tongue. "Yer voice box aint the only inconvenient thin aboutcha. Yer more of an art peice than an efficient model, what with all this human like work-ature."

He gently runs his fingers across some wires with a mix of awe and annoyance. "Heres yer problem." He feels of the leaking wires and begins working on repairs. "Its like they wanted you to be able to bleed! Shoulda kept the coolant seperate, n'..." He continues mumbling to himself about the ethics of human-like robotic designs, and the superiority of more inanimate looking creatures.

[hallsoftreachery]

"Hm... I suppose that makes sense, given my creator.." It mutters to itself. "I suppose he wanted something that would give him some sort of familiarity, given he is the only one that makes repairs and adjustments to my physical body or my programs." The Kunstprodukt muses to itself. "Art piece... That makes sense.. Last I remember my name translates to Art Product in one of the languages of the old earth.." In german, he means in german.

Then comes the comment of his creator wanting him to be capable of bleeding, he stops for a moment. "I don't think he would make me like that. He adores me, the ability to bleed could be a compromise on our mission, he wouldn't build me with a weakness like that..." You know what they say about rivers in Egypt.

[papa-mcgucket]

He frowns softly at it. "Yeah...sure." He says gently with an unconvincing smile. Fiddleford knows all about denial. He'll feed into delusions till they're all thats left.

"I do think its neat ya look like this, if not at all convenient. Aaand...there! All patched up" He pulls away with a smile. "This part of ya, anyway. Any other issues? Bits that need replacin, coolant needs refilled?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt opens one of the screens that it had pulled out before, that red hologram casting a soft light onto its hand where its projected from. Its pretty cool that on the screens are deconstructions of its circuits that tell it where everything goes and how it should look alongside what might be damaged.

It marks the arm that just got fixed as "INJURY (?)" since it believes the arm to be injured despite being fixed. It marks the two wires that had gotten loose as fixed but the voicebox as "CAUTION". It marks the level of coolant to be a bit underneath average. Otherwise it seems the many other bodily functions the Kunstprodukt has still work perfectly.

"I do think I may need more coolant.. On the back of my neck there's a small hatch that will open, it's similar to refilling the water in a motor vehicle." It states. It leaves the screen floating there before using that same hand to open the hatch. "I might need to power down my voice box while it leaves its caution state too.. The fluid that fell onto it could damage it further"

The thing about powering down its voice box is that it won't be able to talk, and that is clearly an idea its not very thrilled about. Its very interesting that its so emotive for a machine made of code and metal, if you asked him, he would deny having the capability to feel, but that's clearly wrong.

[papa-mcgucket]

"I could replace it entierly if n' ya'd like me too! Looks pretty easy to replicate...I could shim-sham somthin up! Even make it waterproof! Or, uh, coolant proof, heh heh" He smiles kindly, clasping his hands together

[hallsoftreachery]

"You could? That would be.. Great." It mutters, unsure about showing any sign that it actually believes that Fidd can make something to properly replace it's parts. It looks away for a moment before bringing up a screen with... blueprints? "This is how my voicebox is built. I have archives of how everything built for me was made"

The Kunstprodukt ... slides the screen over? Apparently thats something its holograms can do, and as it said, it has the blueprints for its voicebox. In exchange, it powers of the voice box, moving its mouth to confirm it can't speak anymore. With a soft movement, it clicks the voice-box out of its spot on its chest, and hands it to Fiddleford, entrusting him with the box.

[papa-mcgucket]

He looks over the blueprints and takes the box. "Alright...I can do this, shouldnt take too long. Do you have a way ta power down? A sleep mode? I can wake ya back up when m' done."

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt looks uneasy about the idea of powering off, it never powers itself off unless its switching Versions. It takes a moment before it brings its hand up to its neck. Under the place where its jaw meets with its neck, there's a button. It makes sure McGucket sees it, before pressing down on it.

The light on the screen that imitates eyes disappears entirely, and its body slumps slightly, its arms falling, and its systems glowing a soft red from inside. Its really pretty the way that red glow casts the insides of its systems in a gentle light.

[papa-mcgucket]

A couple hours later, Fiddleford gently turns the machine back on. Its voicebox is fixed, replaced and repaired. Its coolant is refilled, too. He gently takes his hands off and smiles. "There...how are ya?" he asks softly

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's screen flashes before the lights settle, forming its eyes. It reaches for its power button, feeling the area to make sure everything was fine and being mildly surprised that McGucket didnt do anything wrong, it has very little trust in people. It lets out a soft humm once it finishes powering on.

"..Its fine." It answers, moving its hands around, readjusting itself to being awake. It holds its throat, there's a difference in how it feels to talk, its.. smoother, and it might have caught it off guard. It can feel that the coolant is a different brand than what it normally uses, yet it feels more refreshing than normal.

"I believe I never got your name." It asks, there's almost a hint of an emotion in its tone now. It asks, not making eye contact, instead, looking at its screens to tell how much time has passed, there's also a picture of a man on it, very handsome very attactive, and the Kunstprodukt seems to be staring at that instead.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, its a pleasure." He smiles, tilting his head to try and get a look at whatever it is the other is distracted by.

[hallsoftreachery]

"Much obliged for the repairs, McGucket." It nods before realizing he's trying to see the screen. It shows McGucket the screen after pulling up a few more images. There's a portrait picture of a man, and four different propaganda posters from what you can tell, all featuring the same man. "He's my maker, Der Große Tanzdiktator"

The man looks... "eccentric"? The word can't quite capture just how extreme the energy of the man is, even through images. A quick look at the man tells you that the Kunstprodukt was designed in his image. The same facial structure, the same facial hair, the same skin and seemingly the same height (given Kunst appears in one of the figures standing by him), and even their outfits have many similar aspects.

Two of the posters frame him as a force to be reckoned with, using that "He's Watching" ideology by framing his eyes specifically. Three of them frame him powerful, fun, and very, very, VERY, queer in their subtext. The portrait appears to be for some sort of identification. "He is whomst I must meet up with again, I had not finished my objective when I got transported to this world."

[papa-mcgucket]

"I see" He hums thoughtfully, looking the images over. "And ya...what, need ta time travel to get there?" He frowns at the idea. "Y'know, I know where ya could get a time travel thingamajig. Its broken, but im sure somone of yer disposition could fix it right up. Ya just have ta agree to somthin fer me." Theres a certain glint in his eye unfitting of his otherwise fatherly farmhand persona

[hallsoftreachery]

"Im unsure if time travel might be the way to go, but it might be the solution.." It muses to itself before hearing McGucket's idea. "Hm.. I suppose it wouldnt be harmful to aid you in exchange for the Time Travel Tool.. T^Cubed for ease of saying." It speaks calmly, accepting the trade. "What do you need me to do?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Theres these two men- pair of twins, on the other side of town. Theyve got a broken time machine- looks like a tape measure. They've been a' tryin' to fix it up. In exchange for tellin you how to get it, I need you ta make sure they never suceed in their time travelin attempts. Be it by just keepin the machine yerself or whatever means necessary." He pauses and glances at their rifle "Just, uh, dont kill em. That wouldnt be...preferable."

[hallsoftreachery]

"...Das Koloseum would disintegrate a human being, it was made to kill that which cannot be. I wouldnt dare use that against a human man." It mutters, shortly after though, it takes the gun from the holster on its thigh "I could use this if necessary." It muses to itself.

"Murder is a crime that can be committed in extreme situations, i will avoid it." It states, as if trying to assure that it wont kill anyone. It does leave its handgun on the table in order to assure this. "Do you know where they keep it? If you do that might be helpful. I could also act like i am some sort of time-traveling person that is there to claim it back."

As it speaks, it readjusts its clothing, closing its shirt back up and adjusting its accessories and reattaching its sleeve.

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Right this way. You want me ta get a wheel barrow ta push ya in or somthin? You look like yer havin a hard time standin" He fussed over the machine like its an ingured animal. He doesnt even flinch at the mention of a date so far in the future.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt huffs "I can- Carry myself just fine-" as it moves, it continues using the sniper rifle as a crutch but seems much more capable to move around. Its boots get stuck every so often on the dirt but it seems to be able to get them unstuck. It follows digilently, letting McGucket guide it.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford nods and sighs, leading the robot to his workshop. Its...rather hidden, oddly, and not nearly as welcoming looking as the farmhouse or the man himself. "Come on in" He smiles gently and opens the door, it creeks with rust and effort.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt makes a motion almost like a shudder when the door creaks, the place doesnt make it any more confident in Fiddleford's ability to fix it up, but there's not much it can do otherwise. "...Vintage." Is the only word it says to talk about the state of the workshop. Kunst looks around before finding an empty chair by what he guessed was the work table, resting the rifle against the wall nearby.

Before anything can be done to it, its hands pull up a... hologram? Yeah, a red holographic screen. There's a lot of warning signs, but after a moment of staring at it, Kunst closes it. "The damage is- Open wiring in- My arm." In the entirety of its arm, apparently too. Its quiet when it states the damage, as if ashamed of having been hurt. "My- My shoulder joint has slid off slightly and- and- My wires have been cut near my- my wrist"

Its voice seems to struggle a bit, losing that smoothness just slightly and getting more synthetized and robotic, like what we know as a vocaloid. It takes off the shoulder pieces from its left arm, then it unbuckles the sleeve, sliding it off along with the metal accents and the glove. Its arm is jointed at the elbow and shoulder like a doll, and its fingers are jointed very curiously. Its wrist is also jointed bu you cannot see it, only a triangle-like mark where it joins.

There's a blue liquid seeping from the shoulder joint, its slightly thick, but otherwise seems like a sort of coolant. As stated, its shoulder joint seems off, and its wrist has a massive cut like if a saw-blade had cut it. The same blue liquid pools inside of the cut, but inside you can see colored wires alongside the metal structuring.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford leans in and hums thoughtfully, not yet touching anything. He goes and puts on some gloves, then feels of the shoulder joint. "What if I just-" He pops it back into place like you would a humans dislocated shoulder.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's eyes flash white the moment the joint returns to its place, but it seems to fit perfectly in place. It doesnt speak but does move its shoulder a decent bit. "Surprising." It states, usually, with this amount of damage, it would simply have moved on to V6, abandoning its current shell as "trash", so of course it doesnt really know how to fix any of this type of thing.

"One of the easier fixes for my wrist could simply be soldering another piece of metal in the right shape onto it.." It muses to itself, it stares very intently at the "gash" on its wrist, analyzing its properties, quite literally eyeballing the measurements. "I'd rather not lose any more coolant while im away from the city, im unsure any of the things I could find here would work in the same way I need them to.." It keeps talking out loud to itself, and to be honest, car coolant could probably work on him

[papa-mcgucket]

"Oh, dont worry about that! I got plenty a coolent here my own self!" He smiles then rumages for a welding mask and puts it on, picking up some scrap metal and a blow torch. "Now, let me close up these wounds, then I'll get a look atcher insides!"

[hallsoftreachery]

In it's own weird robot way, aka by increasing the light from its eyes, it expresses a mild worry at the usage of a blow torch to try to fix these. Its biggest worry is that it wont be entirely smooth like before, but it voices none of that. "The measurement should be [blahblah], around this size in this amount of curvature with the curve beginning here"

The kunstprodukt speaks a bit more quietly, its free hand tracing the form onto the metal and leaving some sort of temporary marks on the metal. "There may be some leftover material..." It mutters, seemingly unthrilled about that. It stares for a moment but then simply looks away, moving its ponytail to its other shoulder so it doesnt singe, waiting for Fidds to finish helping it.

[papa-mcgucket]

He nods, understanding all the technicalities, and gets to work. He works fast and efficient, but also with good quality- by the situations standards. He pulls back and flips his mask up. He hums thoughtfully "That should be good fer a patch up. You want me to shine 'er up, or?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt is mildly impressed at the efficiency with which Fiddleford works with, and mild impressment from it is quite an amount, given that it doesnt tend to hold high standards for humans. "...That would be much appreciated" It answers the question. It doesnt like how it looks, its metallic white skin interrupted by the tone of scrap metals and soldering. It's never been one for scars.

While Fidd works on polishing up the patch-up, the Kunstprodukt removes the collar it wears, unbuckling the high belt it wears under its coat, and unbuttoning its shirt. All of this to open the two plates that make up its chest, they click open. "Voicebox... Voicebox.... Thats the most inconvinient voice method...." It mutters to itself, moving something around in there before returning to sitting idly. It was simply turning off a couple things that might make it harder to fix up whatever went wrong in there.

Whenever Fidd gets done, if he moves to seeing how its systems work from the inside, it will find a very impressive sight. The metal armature is in the way of course, but behind it are wires strung around it like muscle and veins, there's a whole RAM unit in there and multiple advanced processors, all surrounding a metal heart shaped object, cartoon heart, not real heart. There's fans closer to the joints which are kicking softly, whirring just the slightest.

Two of the wires that should be connected to it are entirely separate, they leak softly down onto the voice box, which is getting messed up due to this very liquid constantly falling onto it. Its a complex, but very detailed system.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford sands down and polishes the soldering he'd done, and even tries to color correct. He then looks at the insides and clicks his tongue. "Yer voice box aint the only inconvenient thin aboutcha. Yer more of an art peice than an efficient model, what with all this human like work-ature."

He gently runs his fingers across some wires with a mix of awe and annoyance. "Heres yer problem." He feels of the leaking wires and begins working on repairs. "Its like they wanted you to be able to bleed! Shoulda kept the coolant seperate, n'..." He continues mumbling to himself about the ethics of human-like robotic designs, and the superiority of more inanimate looking creatures.

[hallsoftreachery]

"Hm... I suppose that makes sense, given my creator.." It mutters to itself. "I suppose he wanted something that would give him some sort of familiarity, given he is the only one that makes repairs and adjustments to my physical body or my programs." The Kunstprodukt muses to itself. "Art piece... That makes sense.. Last I remember my name translates to Art Product in one of the languages of the old earth.." In german, he means in german.

Then comes the comment of his creator wanting him to be capable of bleeding, he stops for a moment. "I don't think he would make me like that. He adores me, the ability to bleed could be a compromise on our mission, he wouldn't build me with a weakness like that..." You know what they say about rivers in Egypt.

[papa-mcgucket]

He frowns softly at it. "Yeah...sure." He says gently with an unconvincing smile. Fiddleford knows all about denial. He'll feed into delusions till they're all thats left.

"I do think its neat ya look like this, if not at all convenient. Aaand...there! All patched up" He pulls away with a smile. "This part of ya, anyway. Any other issues? Bits that need replacin, coolant needs refilled?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt opens one of the screens that it had pulled out before, that red hologram casting a soft light onto its hand where its projected from. Its pretty cool that on the screens are deconstructions of its circuits that tell it where everything goes and how it should look alongside what might be damaged.

It marks the arm that just got fixed as "INJURY (?)" since it believes the arm to be injured despite being fixed. It marks the two wires that had gotten loose as fixed but the voicebox as "CAUTION". It marks the level of coolant to be a bit underneath average. Otherwise it seems the many other bodily functions the Kunstprodukt has still work perfectly.

"I do think I may need more coolant.. On the back of my neck there's a small hatch that will open, it's similar to refilling the water in a motor vehicle." It states. It leaves the screen floating there before using that same hand to open the hatch. "I might need to power down my voice box while it leaves its caution state too.. The fluid that fell onto it could damage it further"

The thing about powering down its voice box is that it won't be able to talk, and that is clearly an idea its not very thrilled about. Its very interesting that its so emotive for a machine made of code and metal, if you asked him, he would deny having the capability to feel, but that's clearly wrong.

[papa-mcgucket]

"I could replace it entierly if n' ya'd like me too! Looks pretty easy to replicate...I could shim-sham somthin up! Even make it waterproof! Or, uh, coolant proof, heh heh" He smiles kindly, clasping his hands together

[hallsoftreachery]

"You could? That would be.. Great." It mutters, unsure about showing any sign that it actually believes that Fidd can make something to properly replace it's parts. It looks away for a moment before bringing up a screen with... blueprints? "This is how my voicebox is built. I have archives of how everything built for me was made"

The Kunstprodukt ... slides the screen over? Apparently thats something its holograms can do, and as it said, it has the blueprints for its voicebox. In exchange, it powers of the voice box, moving its mouth to confirm it can't speak anymore. With a soft movement, it clicks the voice-box out of its spot on its chest, and hands it to Fiddleford, entrusting him with the box.

[papa-mcgucket]

He looks over the blueprints and takes the box. "Alright...I can do this, shouldnt take too long. Do you have a way ta power down? A sleep mode? I can wake ya back up when m' done."

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt looks uneasy about the idea of powering off, it never powers itself off unless its switching Versions. It takes a moment before it brings its hand up to its neck. Under the place where its jaw meets with its neck, there's a button. It makes sure McGucket sees it, before pressing down on it.

The light on the screen that imitates eyes disappears entirely, and its body slumps slightly, its arms falling, and its systems glowing a soft red from inside. Its really pretty the way that red glow casts the insides of its systems in a gentle light.

[papa-mcgucket]

A couple hours later, Fiddleford gently turns the machine back on. Its voicebox is fixed, replaced and repaired. Its coolant is refilled, too. He gently takes his hands off and smiles. "There...how are ya?" he asks softly

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's screen flashes before the lights settle, forming its eyes. It reaches for its power button, feeling the area to make sure everything was fine and being mildly surprised that McGucket didnt do anything wrong, it has very little trust in people. It lets out a soft humm once it finishes powering on.

"..Its fine." It answers, moving its hands around, readjusting itself to being awake. It holds its throat, there's a difference in how it feels to talk, its.. smoother, and it might have caught it off guard. It can feel that the coolant is a different brand than what it normally uses, yet it feels more refreshing than normal.

"I believe I never got your name." It asks, there's almost a hint of an emotion in its tone now. It asks, not making eye contact, instead, looking at its screens to tell how much time has passed, there's also a picture of a man on it, very handsome very attactive, and the Kunstprodukt seems to be staring at that instead.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, its a pleasure." He smiles, tilting his head to try and get a look at whatever it is the other is distracted by.

[hallsoftreachery]

"Much obliged for the repairs, McGucket." It nods before realizing he's trying to see the screen. It shows McGucket the screen after pulling up a few more images. There's a portrait picture of a man, and four different propaganda posters from what you can tell, all featuring the same man. "He's my maker, Der Große Tanzdiktator"

The man looks... "eccentric"? The word can't quite capture just how extreme the energy of the man is, even through images. A quick look at the man tells you that the Kunstprodukt was designed in his image. The same facial structure, the same facial hair, the same skin and seemingly the same height (given Kunst appears in one of the figures standing by him), and even their outfits have many similar aspects.

Two of the posters frame him as a force to be reckoned with, using that "He's Watching" ideology by framing his eyes specifically. Three of them frame him powerful, fun, and very, very, VERY, queer in their subtext. The portrait appears to be for some sort of identification. "He is whomst I must meet up with again, I had not finished my objective when I got transported to this world."

[papa-mcgucket]

"I see" He hums thoughtfully, looking the images over. "And ya...what, need ta time travel to get there?" He frowns at the idea. "Y'know, I know where ya could get a time travel thingamajig. Its broken, but im sure somone of yer disposition could fix it right up. Ya just have ta agree to somthin fer me." Theres a certain glint in his eye unfitting of his otherwise fatherly farmhand persona

[hallsoftreachery]

"Im unsure if time travel might be the way to go, but it might be the solution.." It muses to itself before hearing McGucket's idea. "Hm.. I suppose it wouldnt be harmful to aid you in exchange for the Time Travel Tool.. T^Cubed for ease of saying." It speaks calmly, accepting the trade. "What do you need me to do?"

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Right this way. You want me ta get a wheel barrow ta push ya in or somthin? You look like yer havin a hard time standin" He fussed over the machine like its an ingured animal. He doesnt even flinch at the mention of a date so far in the future.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt huffs "I can- Carry myself just fine-" as it moves, it continues using the sniper rifle as a crutch but seems much more capable to move around. Its boots get stuck every so often on the dirt but it seems to be able to get them unstuck. It follows digilently, letting McGucket guide it.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford nods and sighs, leading the robot to his workshop. Its...rather hidden, oddly, and not nearly as welcoming looking as the farmhouse or the man himself. "Come on in" He smiles gently and opens the door, it creeks with rust and effort.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt makes a motion almost like a shudder when the door creaks, the place doesnt make it any more confident in Fiddleford's ability to fix it up, but there's not much it can do otherwise. "...Vintage." Is the only word it says to talk about the state of the workshop. Kunst looks around before finding an empty chair by what he guessed was the work table, resting the rifle against the wall nearby.

Before anything can be done to it, its hands pull up a... hologram? Yeah, a red holographic screen. There's a lot of warning signs, but after a moment of staring at it, Kunst closes it. "The damage is- Open wiring in- My arm." In the entirety of its arm, apparently too. Its quiet when it states the damage, as if ashamed of having been hurt. "My- My shoulder joint has slid off slightly and- and- My wires have been cut near my- my wrist"

Its voice seems to struggle a bit, losing that smoothness just slightly and getting more synthetized and robotic, like what we know as a vocaloid. It takes off the shoulder pieces from its left arm, then it unbuckles the sleeve, sliding it off along with the metal accents and the glove. Its arm is jointed at the elbow and shoulder like a doll, and its fingers are jointed very curiously. Its wrist is also jointed bu you cannot see it, only a triangle-like mark where it joins.

There's a blue liquid seeping from the shoulder joint, its slightly thick, but otherwise seems like a sort of coolant. As stated, its shoulder joint seems off, and its wrist has a massive cut like if a saw-blade had cut it. The same blue liquid pools inside of the cut, but inside you can see colored wires alongside the metal structuring.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford leans in and hums thoughtfully, not yet touching anything. He goes and puts on some gloves, then feels of the shoulder joint. "What if I just-" He pops it back into place like you would a humans dislocated shoulder.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's eyes flash white the moment the joint returns to its place, but it seems to fit perfectly in place. It doesnt speak but does move its shoulder a decent bit. "Surprising." It states, usually, with this amount of damage, it would simply have moved on to V6, abandoning its current shell as "trash", so of course it doesnt really know how to fix any of this type of thing.

"One of the easier fixes for my wrist could simply be soldering another piece of metal in the right shape onto it.." It muses to itself, it stares very intently at the "gash" on its wrist, analyzing its properties, quite literally eyeballing the measurements. "I'd rather not lose any more coolant while im away from the city, im unsure any of the things I could find here would work in the same way I need them to.." It keeps talking out loud to itself, and to be honest, car coolant could probably work on him

[papa-mcgucket]

"Oh, dont worry about that! I got plenty a coolent here my own self!" He smiles then rumages for a welding mask and puts it on, picking up some scrap metal and a blow torch. "Now, let me close up these wounds, then I'll get a look atcher insides!"

[hallsoftreachery]

In it's own weird robot way, aka by increasing the light from its eyes, it expresses a mild worry at the usage of a blow torch to try to fix these. Its biggest worry is that it wont be entirely smooth like before, but it voices none of that. "The measurement should be [blahblah], around this size in this amount of curvature with the curve beginning here"

The kunstprodukt speaks a bit more quietly, its free hand tracing the form onto the metal and leaving some sort of temporary marks on the metal. "There may be some leftover material..." It mutters, seemingly unthrilled about that. It stares for a moment but then simply looks away, moving its ponytail to its other shoulder so it doesnt singe, waiting for Fidds to finish helping it.

[papa-mcgucket]

He nods, understanding all the technicalities, and gets to work. He works fast and efficient, but also with good quality- by the situations standards. He pulls back and flips his mask up. He hums thoughtfully "That should be good fer a patch up. You want me to shine 'er up, or?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt is mildly impressed at the efficiency with which Fiddleford works with, and mild impressment from it is quite an amount, given that it doesnt tend to hold high standards for humans. "...That would be much appreciated" It answers the question. It doesnt like how it looks, its metallic white skin interrupted by the tone of scrap metals and soldering. It's never been one for scars.

While Fidd works on polishing up the patch-up, the Kunstprodukt removes the collar it wears, unbuckling the high belt it wears under its coat, and unbuttoning its shirt. All of this to open the two plates that make up its chest, they click open. "Voicebox... Voicebox.... Thats the most inconvinient voice method...." It mutters to itself, moving something around in there before returning to sitting idly. It was simply turning off a couple things that might make it harder to fix up whatever went wrong in there.

Whenever Fidd gets done, if he moves to seeing how its systems work from the inside, it will find a very impressive sight. The metal armature is in the way of course, but behind it are wires strung around it like muscle and veins, there's a whole RAM unit in there and multiple advanced processors, all surrounding a metal heart shaped object, cartoon heart, not real heart. There's fans closer to the joints which are kicking softly, whirring just the slightest.

Two of the wires that should be connected to it are entirely separate, they leak softly down onto the voice box, which is getting messed up due to this very liquid constantly falling onto it. Its a complex, but very detailed system.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford sands down and polishes the soldering he'd done, and even tries to color correct. He then looks at the insides and clicks his tongue. "Yer voice box aint the only inconvenient thin aboutcha. Yer more of an art peice than an efficient model, what with all this human like work-ature."

He gently runs his fingers across some wires with a mix of awe and annoyance. "Heres yer problem." He feels of the leaking wires and begins working on repairs. "Its like they wanted you to be able to bleed! Shoulda kept the coolant seperate, n'..." He continues mumbling to himself about the ethics of human-like robotic designs, and the superiority of more inanimate looking creatures.

[hallsoftreachery]

"Hm... I suppose that makes sense, given my creator.." It mutters to itself. "I suppose he wanted something that would give him some sort of familiarity, given he is the only one that makes repairs and adjustments to my physical body or my programs." The Kunstprodukt muses to itself. "Art piece... That makes sense.. Last I remember my name translates to Art Product in one of the languages of the old earth.." In german, he means in german.

Then comes the comment of his creator wanting him to be capable of bleeding, he stops for a moment. "I don't think he would make me like that. He adores me, the ability to bleed could be a compromise on our mission, he wouldn't build me with a weakness like that..." You know what they say about rivers in Egypt.

[papa-mcgucket]

He frowns softly at it. "Yeah...sure." He says gently with an unconvincing smile. Fiddleford knows all about denial. He'll feed into delusions till they're all thats left.

"I do think its neat ya look like this, if not at all convenient. Aaand...there! All patched up" He pulls away with a smile. "This part of ya, anyway. Any other issues? Bits that need replacin, coolant needs refilled?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt opens one of the screens that it had pulled out before, that red hologram casting a soft light onto its hand where its projected from. Its pretty cool that on the screens are deconstructions of its circuits that tell it where everything goes and how it should look alongside what might be damaged.

It marks the arm that just got fixed as "INJURY (?)" since it believes the arm to be injured despite being fixed. It marks the two wires that had gotten loose as fixed but the voicebox as "CAUTION". It marks the level of coolant to be a bit underneath average. Otherwise it seems the many other bodily functions the Kunstprodukt has still work perfectly.

"I do think I may need more coolant.. On the back of my neck there's a small hatch that will open, it's similar to refilling the water in a motor vehicle." It states. It leaves the screen floating there before using that same hand to open the hatch. "I might need to power down my voice box while it leaves its caution state too.. The fluid that fell onto it could damage it further"

The thing about powering down its voice box is that it won't be able to talk, and that is clearly an idea its not very thrilled about. Its very interesting that its so emotive for a machine made of code and metal, if you asked him, he would deny having the capability to feel, but that's clearly wrong.

[papa-mcgucket]

"I could replace it entierly if n' ya'd like me too! Looks pretty easy to replicate...I could shim-sham somthin up! Even make it waterproof! Or, uh, coolant proof, heh heh" He smiles kindly, clasping his hands together

[hallsoftreachery]

"You could? That would be.. Great." It mutters, unsure about showing any sign that it actually believes that Fidd can make something to properly replace it's parts. It looks away for a moment before bringing up a screen with... blueprints? "This is how my voicebox is built. I have archives of how everything built for me was made"

The Kunstprodukt ... slides the screen over? Apparently thats something its holograms can do, and as it said, it has the blueprints for its voicebox. In exchange, it powers of the voice box, moving its mouth to confirm it can't speak anymore. With a soft movement, it clicks the voice-box out of its spot on its chest, and hands it to Fiddleford, entrusting him with the box.

[papa-mcgucket]

He looks over the blueprints and takes the box. "Alright...I can do this, shouldnt take too long. Do you have a way ta power down? A sleep mode? I can wake ya back up when m' done."

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt looks uneasy about the idea of powering off, it never powers itself off unless its switching Versions. It takes a moment before it brings its hand up to its neck. Under the place where its jaw meets with its neck, there's a button. It makes sure McGucket sees it, before pressing down on it.

The light on the screen that imitates eyes disappears entirely, and its body slumps slightly, its arms falling, and its systems glowing a soft red from inside. Its really pretty the way that red glow casts the insides of its systems in a gentle light.

[papa-mcgucket]

A couple hours later, Fiddleford gently turns the machine back on. Its voicebox is fixed, replaced and repaired. Its coolant is refilled, too. He gently takes his hands off and smiles. "There...how are ya?" he asks softly

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's screen flashes before the lights settle, forming its eyes. It reaches for its power button, feeling the area to make sure everything was fine and being mildly surprised that McGucket didnt do anything wrong, it has very little trust in people. It lets out a soft humm once it finishes powering on.

"..Its fine." It answers, moving its hands around, readjusting itself to being awake. It holds its throat, there's a difference in how it feels to talk, its.. smoother, and it might have caught it off guard. It can feel that the coolant is a different brand than what it normally uses, yet it feels more refreshing than normal.

"I believe I never got your name." It asks, there's almost a hint of an emotion in its tone now. It asks, not making eye contact, instead, looking at its screens to tell how much time has passed, there's also a picture of a man on it, very handsome very attactive, and the Kunstprodukt seems to be staring at that instead.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, its a pleasure." He smiles, tilting his head to try and get a look at whatever it is the other is distracted by.

[hallsoftreachery]

"Much obliged for the repairs, McGucket." It nods before realizing he's trying to see the screen. It shows McGucket the screen after pulling up a few more images. There's a portrait picture of a man, and four different propaganda posters from what you can tell, all featuring the same man. "He's my maker, Der Große Tanzdiktator"

The man looks... "eccentric"? The word can't quite capture just how extreme the energy of the man is, even through images. A quick look at the man tells you that the Kunstprodukt was designed in his image. The same facial structure, the same facial hair, the same skin and seemingly the same height (given Kunst appears in one of the figures standing by him), and even their outfits have many similar aspects.

Two of the posters frame him as a force to be reckoned with, using that "He's Watching" ideology by framing his eyes specifically. Three of them frame him powerful, fun, and very, very, VERY, queer in their subtext. The portrait appears to be for some sort of identification. "He is whomst I must meet up with again, I had not finished my objective when I got transported to this world."

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Right this way. You want me ta get a wheel barrow ta push ya in or somthin? You look like yer havin a hard time standin" He fussed over the machine like its an ingured animal. He doesnt even flinch at the mention of a date so far in the future.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt huffs "I can- Carry myself just fine-" as it moves, it continues using the sniper rifle as a crutch but seems much more capable to move around. Its boots get stuck every so often on the dirt but it seems to be able to get them unstuck. It follows digilently, letting McGucket guide it.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford nods and sighs, leading the robot to his workshop. Its...rather hidden, oddly, and not nearly as welcoming looking as the farmhouse or the man himself. "Come on in" He smiles gently and opens the door, it creeks with rust and effort.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt makes a motion almost like a shudder when the door creaks, the place doesnt make it any more confident in Fiddleford's ability to fix it up, but there's not much it can do otherwise. "...Vintage." Is the only word it says to talk about the state of the workshop. Kunst looks around before finding an empty chair by what he guessed was the work table, resting the rifle against the wall nearby.

Before anything can be done to it, its hands pull up a... hologram? Yeah, a red holographic screen. There's a lot of warning signs, but after a moment of staring at it, Kunst closes it. "The damage is- Open wiring in- My arm." In the entirety of its arm, apparently too. Its quiet when it states the damage, as if ashamed of having been hurt. "My- My shoulder joint has slid off slightly and- and- My wires have been cut near my- my wrist"

Its voice seems to struggle a bit, losing that smoothness just slightly and getting more synthetized and robotic, like what we know as a vocaloid. It takes off the shoulder pieces from its left arm, then it unbuckles the sleeve, sliding it off along with the metal accents and the glove. Its arm is jointed at the elbow and shoulder like a doll, and its fingers are jointed very curiously. Its wrist is also jointed bu you cannot see it, only a triangle-like mark where it joins.

There's a blue liquid seeping from the shoulder joint, its slightly thick, but otherwise seems like a sort of coolant. As stated, its shoulder joint seems off, and its wrist has a massive cut like if a saw-blade had cut it. The same blue liquid pools inside of the cut, but inside you can see colored wires alongside the metal structuring.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford leans in and hums thoughtfully, not yet touching anything. He goes and puts on some gloves, then feels of the shoulder joint. "What if I just-" He pops it back into place like you would a humans dislocated shoulder.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's eyes flash white the moment the joint returns to its place, but it seems to fit perfectly in place. It doesnt speak but does move its shoulder a decent bit. "Surprising." It states, usually, with this amount of damage, it would simply have moved on to V6, abandoning its current shell as "trash", so of course it doesnt really know how to fix any of this type of thing.

"One of the easier fixes for my wrist could simply be soldering another piece of metal in the right shape onto it.." It muses to itself, it stares very intently at the "gash" on its wrist, analyzing its properties, quite literally eyeballing the measurements. "I'd rather not lose any more coolant while im away from the city, im unsure any of the things I could find here would work in the same way I need them to.." It keeps talking out loud to itself, and to be honest, car coolant could probably work on him

[papa-mcgucket]

"Oh, dont worry about that! I got plenty a coolent here my own self!" He smiles then rumages for a welding mask and puts it on, picking up some scrap metal and a blow torch. "Now, let me close up these wounds, then I'll get a look atcher insides!"

[hallsoftreachery]

In it's own weird robot way, aka by increasing the light from its eyes, it expresses a mild worry at the usage of a blow torch to try to fix these. Its biggest worry is that it wont be entirely smooth like before, but it voices none of that. "The measurement should be [blahblah], around this size in this amount of curvature with the curve beginning here"

The kunstprodukt speaks a bit more quietly, its free hand tracing the form onto the metal and leaving some sort of temporary marks on the metal. "There may be some leftover material..." It mutters, seemingly unthrilled about that. It stares for a moment but then simply looks away, moving its ponytail to its other shoulder so it doesnt singe, waiting for Fidds to finish helping it.

[papa-mcgucket]

He nods, understanding all the technicalities, and gets to work. He works fast and efficient, but also with good quality- by the situations standards. He pulls back and flips his mask up. He hums thoughtfully "That should be good fer a patch up. You want me to shine 'er up, or?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt is mildly impressed at the efficiency with which Fiddleford works with, and mild impressment from it is quite an amount, given that it doesnt tend to hold high standards for humans. "...That would be much appreciated" It answers the question. It doesnt like how it looks, its metallic white skin interrupted by the tone of scrap metals and soldering. It's never been one for scars.

While Fidd works on polishing up the patch-up, the Kunstprodukt removes the collar it wears, unbuckling the high belt it wears under its coat, and unbuttoning its shirt. All of this to open the two plates that make up its chest, they click open. "Voicebox... Voicebox.... Thats the most inconvinient voice method...." It mutters to itself, moving something around in there before returning to sitting idly. It was simply turning off a couple things that might make it harder to fix up whatever went wrong in there.

Whenever Fidd gets done, if he moves to seeing how its systems work from the inside, it will find a very impressive sight. The metal armature is in the way of course, but behind it are wires strung around it like muscle and veins, there's a whole RAM unit in there and multiple advanced processors, all surrounding a metal heart shaped object, cartoon heart, not real heart. There's fans closer to the joints which are kicking softly, whirring just the slightest.

Two of the wires that should be connected to it are entirely separate, they leak softly down onto the voice box, which is getting messed up due to this very liquid constantly falling onto it. Its a complex, but very detailed system.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford sands down and polishes the soldering he'd done, and even tries to color correct. He then looks at the insides and clicks his tongue. "Yer voice box aint the only inconvenient thin aboutcha. Yer more of an art peice than an efficient model, what with all this human like work-ature."

He gently runs his fingers across some wires with a mix of awe and annoyance. "Heres yer problem." He feels of the leaking wires and begins working on repairs. "Its like they wanted you to be able to bleed! Shoulda kept the coolant seperate, n'..." He continues mumbling to himself about the ethics of human-like robotic designs, and the superiority of more inanimate looking creatures.

[hallsoftreachery]

"Hm... I suppose that makes sense, given my creator.." It mutters to itself. "I suppose he wanted something that would give him some sort of familiarity, given he is the only one that makes repairs and adjustments to my physical body or my programs." The Kunstprodukt muses to itself. "Art piece... That makes sense.. Last I remember my name translates to Art Product in one of the languages of the old earth.." In german, he means in german.

Then comes the comment of his creator wanting him to be capable of bleeding, he stops for a moment. "I don't think he would make me like that. He adores me, the ability to bleed could be a compromise on our mission, he wouldn't build me with a weakness like that..." You know what they say about rivers in Egypt.

[papa-mcgucket]

He frowns softly at it. "Yeah...sure." He says gently with an unconvincing smile. Fiddleford knows all about denial. He'll feed into delusions till they're all thats left.

"I do think its neat ya look like this, if not at all convenient. Aaand...there! All patched up" He pulls away with a smile. "This part of ya, anyway. Any other issues? Bits that need replacin, coolant needs refilled?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt opens one of the screens that it had pulled out before, that red hologram casting a soft light onto its hand where its projected from. Its pretty cool that on the screens are deconstructions of its circuits that tell it where everything goes and how it should look alongside what might be damaged.

It marks the arm that just got fixed as "INJURY (?)" since it believes the arm to be injured despite being fixed. It marks the two wires that had gotten loose as fixed but the voicebox as "CAUTION". It marks the level of coolant to be a bit underneath average. Otherwise it seems the many other bodily functions the Kunstprodukt has still work perfectly.

"I do think I may need more coolant.. On the back of my neck there's a small hatch that will open, it's similar to refilling the water in a motor vehicle." It states. It leaves the screen floating there before using that same hand to open the hatch. "I might need to power down my voice box while it leaves its caution state too.. The fluid that fell onto it could damage it further"

The thing about powering down its voice box is that it won't be able to talk, and that is clearly an idea its not very thrilled about. Its very interesting that its so emotive for a machine made of code and metal, if you asked him, he would deny having the capability to feel, but that's clearly wrong.

[papa-mcgucket]

"I could replace it entierly if n' ya'd like me too! Looks pretty easy to replicate...I could shim-sham somthin up! Even make it waterproof! Or, uh, coolant proof, heh heh" He smiles kindly, clasping his hands together

[hallsoftreachery]

"You could? That would be.. Great." It mutters, unsure about showing any sign that it actually believes that Fidd can make something to properly replace it's parts. It looks away for a moment before bringing up a screen with... blueprints? "This is how my voicebox is built. I have archives of how everything built for me was made"

The Kunstprodukt ... slides the screen over? Apparently thats something its holograms can do, and as it said, it has the blueprints for its voicebox. In exchange, it powers of the voice box, moving its mouth to confirm it can't speak anymore. With a soft movement, it clicks the voice-box out of its spot on its chest, and hands it to Fiddleford, entrusting him with the box.

[papa-mcgucket]

He looks over the blueprints and takes the box. "Alright...I can do this, shouldnt take too long. Do you have a way ta power down? A sleep mode? I can wake ya back up when m' done."

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt looks uneasy about the idea of powering off, it never powers itself off unless its switching Versions. It takes a moment before it brings its hand up to its neck. Under the place where its jaw meets with its neck, there's a button. It makes sure McGucket sees it, before pressing down on it.

The light on the screen that imitates eyes disappears entirely, and its body slumps slightly, its arms falling, and its systems glowing a soft red from inside. Its really pretty the way that red glow casts the insides of its systems in a gentle light.

[papa-mcgucket]

A couple hours later, Fiddleford gently turns the machine back on. Its voicebox is fixed, replaced and repaired. Its coolant is refilled, too. He gently takes his hands off and smiles. "There...how are ya?" he asks softly

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's screen flashes before the lights settle, forming its eyes. It reaches for its power button, feeling the area to make sure everything was fine and being mildly surprised that McGucket didnt do anything wrong, it has very little trust in people. It lets out a soft humm once it finishes powering on.

"..Its fine." It answers, moving its hands around, readjusting itself to being awake. It holds its throat, there's a difference in how it feels to talk, its.. smoother, and it might have caught it off guard. It can feel that the coolant is a different brand than what it normally uses, yet it feels more refreshing than normal.

"I believe I never got your name." It asks, there's almost a hint of an emotion in its tone now. It asks, not making eye contact, instead, looking at its screens to tell how much time has passed, there's also a picture of a man on it, very handsome very attactive, and the Kunstprodukt seems to be staring at that instead.

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Right this way. You want me ta get a wheel barrow ta push ya in or somthin? You look like yer havin a hard time standin" He fussed over the machine like its an ingured animal. He doesnt even flinch at the mention of a date so far in the future.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt huffs "I can- Carry myself just fine-" as it moves, it continues using the sniper rifle as a crutch but seems much more capable to move around. Its boots get stuck every so often on the dirt but it seems to be able to get them unstuck. It follows digilently, letting McGucket guide it.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford nods and sighs, leading the robot to his workshop. Its...rather hidden, oddly, and not nearly as welcoming looking as the farmhouse or the man himself. "Come on in" He smiles gently and opens the door, it creeks with rust and effort.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt makes a motion almost like a shudder when the door creaks, the place doesnt make it any more confident in Fiddleford's ability to fix it up, but there's not much it can do otherwise. "...Vintage." Is the only word it says to talk about the state of the workshop. Kunst looks around before finding an empty chair by what he guessed was the work table, resting the rifle against the wall nearby.

Before anything can be done to it, its hands pull up a... hologram? Yeah, a red holographic screen. There's a lot of warning signs, but after a moment of staring at it, Kunst closes it. "The damage is- Open wiring in- My arm." In the entirety of its arm, apparently too. Its quiet when it states the damage, as if ashamed of having been hurt. "My- My shoulder joint has slid off slightly and- and- My wires have been cut near my- my wrist"

Its voice seems to struggle a bit, losing that smoothness just slightly and getting more synthetized and robotic, like what we know as a vocaloid. It takes off the shoulder pieces from its left arm, then it unbuckles the sleeve, sliding it off along with the metal accents and the glove. Its arm is jointed at the elbow and shoulder like a doll, and its fingers are jointed very curiously. Its wrist is also jointed bu you cannot see it, only a triangle-like mark where it joins.

There's a blue liquid seeping from the shoulder joint, its slightly thick, but otherwise seems like a sort of coolant. As stated, its shoulder joint seems off, and its wrist has a massive cut like if a saw-blade had cut it. The same blue liquid pools inside of the cut, but inside you can see colored wires alongside the metal structuring.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford leans in and hums thoughtfully, not yet touching anything. He goes and puts on some gloves, then feels of the shoulder joint. "What if I just-" He pops it back into place like you would a humans dislocated shoulder.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's eyes flash white the moment the joint returns to its place, but it seems to fit perfectly in place. It doesnt speak but does move its shoulder a decent bit. "Surprising." It states, usually, with this amount of damage, it would simply have moved on to V6, abandoning its current shell as "trash", so of course it doesnt really know how to fix any of this type of thing.

"One of the easier fixes for my wrist could simply be soldering another piece of metal in the right shape onto it.." It muses to itself, it stares very intently at the "gash" on its wrist, analyzing its properties, quite literally eyeballing the measurements. "I'd rather not lose any more coolant while im away from the city, im unsure any of the things I could find here would work in the same way I need them to.." It keeps talking out loud to itself, and to be honest, car coolant could probably work on him

[papa-mcgucket]

"Oh, dont worry about that! I got plenty a coolent here my own self!" He smiles then rumages for a welding mask and puts it on, picking up some scrap metal and a blow torch. "Now, let me close up these wounds, then I'll get a look atcher insides!"

[hallsoftreachery]

In it's own weird robot way, aka by increasing the light from its eyes, it expresses a mild worry at the usage of a blow torch to try to fix these. Its biggest worry is that it wont be entirely smooth like before, but it voices none of that. "The measurement should be [blahblah], around this size in this amount of curvature with the curve beginning here"

The kunstprodukt speaks a bit more quietly, its free hand tracing the form onto the metal and leaving some sort of temporary marks on the metal. "There may be some leftover material..." It mutters, seemingly unthrilled about that. It stares for a moment but then simply looks away, moving its ponytail to its other shoulder so it doesnt singe, waiting for Fidds to finish helping it.

[papa-mcgucket]

He nods, understanding all the technicalities, and gets to work. He works fast and efficient, but also with good quality- by the situations standards. He pulls back and flips his mask up. He hums thoughtfully "That should be good fer a patch up. You want me to shine 'er up, or?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt is mildly impressed at the efficiency with which Fiddleford works with, and mild impressment from it is quite an amount, given that it doesnt tend to hold high standards for humans. "...That would be much appreciated" It answers the question. It doesnt like how it looks, its metallic white skin interrupted by the tone of scrap metals and soldering. It's never been one for scars.

While Fidd works on polishing up the patch-up, the Kunstprodukt removes the collar it wears, unbuckling the high belt it wears under its coat, and unbuttoning its shirt. All of this to open the two plates that make up its chest, they click open. "Voicebox... Voicebox.... Thats the most inconvinient voice method...." It mutters to itself, moving something around in there before returning to sitting idly. It was simply turning off a couple things that might make it harder to fix up whatever went wrong in there.

Whenever Fidd gets done, if he moves to seeing how its systems work from the inside, it will find a very impressive sight. The metal armature is in the way of course, but behind it are wires strung around it like muscle and veins, there's a whole RAM unit in there and multiple advanced processors, all surrounding a metal heart shaped object, cartoon heart, not real heart. There's fans closer to the joints which are kicking softly, whirring just the slightest.

Two of the wires that should be connected to it are entirely separate, they leak softly down onto the voice box, which is getting messed up due to this very liquid constantly falling onto it. Its a complex, but very detailed system.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford sands down and polishes the soldering he'd done, and even tries to color correct. He then looks at the insides and clicks his tongue. "Yer voice box aint the only inconvenient thin aboutcha. Yer more of an art peice than an efficient model, what with all this human like work-ature."

He gently runs his fingers across some wires with a mix of awe and annoyance. "Heres yer problem." He feels of the leaking wires and begins working on repairs. "Its like they wanted you to be able to bleed! Shoulda kept the coolant seperate, n'..." He continues mumbling to himself about the ethics of human-like robotic designs, and the superiority of more inanimate looking creatures.

[hallsoftreachery]

"Hm... I suppose that makes sense, given my creator.." It mutters to itself. "I suppose he wanted something that would give him some sort of familiarity, given he is the only one that makes repairs and adjustments to my physical body or my programs." The Kunstprodukt muses to itself. "Art piece... That makes sense.. Last I remember my name translates to Art Product in one of the languages of the old earth.." In german, he means in german.

Then comes the comment of his creator wanting him to be capable of bleeding, he stops for a moment. "I don't think he would make me like that. He adores me, the ability to bleed could be a compromise on our mission, he wouldn't build me with a weakness like that..." You know what they say about rivers in Egypt.

[papa-mcgucket]

He frowns softly at it. "Yeah...sure." He says gently with an unconvincing smile. Fiddleford knows all about denial. He'll feed into delusions till they're all thats left.

"I do think its neat ya look like this, if not at all convenient. Aaand...there! All patched up" He pulls away with a smile. "This part of ya, anyway. Any other issues? Bits that need replacin, coolant needs refilled?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt opens one of the screens that it had pulled out before, that red hologram casting a soft light onto its hand where its projected from. Its pretty cool that on the screens are deconstructions of its circuits that tell it where everything goes and how it should look alongside what might be damaged.

It marks the arm that just got fixed as "INJURY (?)" since it believes the arm to be injured despite being fixed. It marks the two wires that had gotten loose as fixed but the voicebox as "CAUTION". It marks the level of coolant to be a bit underneath average. Otherwise it seems the many other bodily functions the Kunstprodukt has still work perfectly.

"I do think I may need more coolant.. On the back of my neck there's a small hatch that will open, it's similar to refilling the water in a motor vehicle." It states. It leaves the screen floating there before using that same hand to open the hatch. "I might need to power down my voice box while it leaves its caution state too.. The fluid that fell onto it could damage it further"

The thing about powering down its voice box is that it won't be able to talk, and that is clearly an idea its not very thrilled about. Its very interesting that its so emotive for a machine made of code and metal, if you asked him, he would deny having the capability to feel, but that's clearly wrong.

[papa-mcgucket]

"I could replace it entierly if n' ya'd like me too! Looks pretty easy to replicate...I could shim-sham somthin up! Even make it waterproof! Or, uh, coolant proof, heh heh" He smiles kindly, clasping his hands together

[hallsoftreachery]

"You could? That would be.. Great." It mutters, unsure about showing any sign that it actually believes that Fidd can make something to properly replace it's parts. It looks away for a moment before bringing up a screen with... blueprints? "This is how my voicebox is built. I have archives of how everything built for me was made"

The Kunstprodukt ... slides the screen over? Apparently thats something its holograms can do, and as it said, it has the blueprints for its voicebox. In exchange, it powers of the voice box, moving its mouth to confirm it can't speak anymore. With a soft movement, it clicks the voice-box out of its spot on its chest, and hands it to Fiddleford, entrusting him with the box.

[papa-mcgucket]

He looks over the blueprints and takes the box. "Alright...I can do this, shouldnt take too long. Do you have a way ta power down? A sleep mode? I can wake ya back up when m' done."

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt looks uneasy about the idea of powering off, it never powers itself off unless its switching Versions. It takes a moment before it brings its hand up to its neck. Under the place where its jaw meets with its neck, there's a button. It makes sure McGucket sees it, before pressing down on it.

The light on the screen that imitates eyes disappears entirely, and its body slumps slightly, its arms falling, and its systems glowing a soft red from inside. Its really pretty the way that red glow casts the insides of its systems in a gentle light.

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Right this way. You want me ta get a wheel barrow ta push ya in or somthin? You look like yer havin a hard time standin" He fussed over the machine like its an ingured animal. He doesnt even flinch at the mention of a date so far in the future.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt huffs "I can- Carry myself just fine-" as it moves, it continues using the sniper rifle as a crutch but seems much more capable to move around. Its boots get stuck every so often on the dirt but it seems to be able to get them unstuck. It follows digilently, letting McGucket guide it.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford nods and sighs, leading the robot to his workshop. Its...rather hidden, oddly, and not nearly as welcoming looking as the farmhouse or the man himself. "Come on in" He smiles gently and opens the door, it creeks with rust and effort.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt makes a motion almost like a shudder when the door creaks, the place doesnt make it any more confident in Fiddleford's ability to fix it up, but there's not much it can do otherwise. "...Vintage." Is the only word it says to talk about the state of the workshop. Kunst looks around before finding an empty chair by what he guessed was the work table, resting the rifle against the wall nearby.

Before anything can be done to it, its hands pull up a... hologram? Yeah, a red holographic screen. There's a lot of warning signs, but after a moment of staring at it, Kunst closes it. "The damage is- Open wiring in- My arm." In the entirety of its arm, apparently too. Its quiet when it states the damage, as if ashamed of having been hurt. "My- My shoulder joint has slid off slightly and- and- My wires have been cut near my- my wrist"

Its voice seems to struggle a bit, losing that smoothness just slightly and getting more synthetized and robotic, like what we know as a vocaloid. It takes off the shoulder pieces from its left arm, then it unbuckles the sleeve, sliding it off along with the metal accents and the glove. Its arm is jointed at the elbow and shoulder like a doll, and its fingers are jointed very curiously. Its wrist is also jointed bu you cannot see it, only a triangle-like mark where it joins.

There's a blue liquid seeping from the shoulder joint, its slightly thick, but otherwise seems like a sort of coolant. As stated, its shoulder joint seems off, and its wrist has a massive cut like if a saw-blade had cut it. The same blue liquid pools inside of the cut, but inside you can see colored wires alongside the metal structuring.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford leans in and hums thoughtfully, not yet touching anything. He goes and puts on some gloves, then feels of the shoulder joint. "What if I just-" He pops it back into place like you would a humans dislocated shoulder.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's eyes flash white the moment the joint returns to its place, but it seems to fit perfectly in place. It doesnt speak but does move its shoulder a decent bit. "Surprising." It states, usually, with this amount of damage, it would simply have moved on to V6, abandoning its current shell as "trash", so of course it doesnt really know how to fix any of this type of thing.

"One of the easier fixes for my wrist could simply be soldering another piece of metal in the right shape onto it.." It muses to itself, it stares very intently at the "gash" on its wrist, analyzing its properties, quite literally eyeballing the measurements. "I'd rather not lose any more coolant while im away from the city, im unsure any of the things I could find here would work in the same way I need them to.." It keeps talking out loud to itself, and to be honest, car coolant could probably work on him

[papa-mcgucket]

"Oh, dont worry about that! I got plenty a coolent here my own self!" He smiles then rumages for a welding mask and puts it on, picking up some scrap metal and a blow torch. "Now, let me close up these wounds, then I'll get a look atcher insides!"

[hallsoftreachery]

In it's own weird robot way, aka by increasing the light from its eyes, it expresses a mild worry at the usage of a blow torch to try to fix these. Its biggest worry is that it wont be entirely smooth like before, but it voices none of that. "The measurement should be [blahblah], around this size in this amount of curvature with the curve beginning here"

The kunstprodukt speaks a bit more quietly, its free hand tracing the form onto the metal and leaving some sort of temporary marks on the metal. "There may be some leftover material..." It mutters, seemingly unthrilled about that. It stares for a moment but then simply looks away, moving its ponytail to its other shoulder so it doesnt singe, waiting for Fidds to finish helping it.

[papa-mcgucket]

He nods, understanding all the technicalities, and gets to work. He works fast and efficient, but also with good quality- by the situations standards. He pulls back and flips his mask up. He hums thoughtfully "That should be good fer a patch up. You want me to shine 'er up, or?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt is mildly impressed at the efficiency with which Fiddleford works with, and mild impressment from it is quite an amount, given that it doesnt tend to hold high standards for humans. "...That would be much appreciated" It answers the question. It doesnt like how it looks, its metallic white skin interrupted by the tone of scrap metals and soldering. It's never been one for scars.

While Fidd works on polishing up the patch-up, the Kunstprodukt removes the collar it wears, unbuckling the high belt it wears under its coat, and unbuttoning its shirt. All of this to open the two plates that make up its chest, they click open. "Voicebox... Voicebox.... Thats the most inconvinient voice method...." It mutters to itself, moving something around in there before returning to sitting idly. It was simply turning off a couple things that might make it harder to fix up whatever went wrong in there.

Whenever Fidd gets done, if he moves to seeing how its systems work from the inside, it will find a very impressive sight. The metal armature is in the way of course, but behind it are wires strung around it like muscle and veins, there's a whole RAM unit in there and multiple advanced processors, all surrounding a metal heart shaped object, cartoon heart, not real heart. There's fans closer to the joints which are kicking softly, whirring just the slightest.

Two of the wires that should be connected to it are entirely separate, they leak softly down onto the voice box, which is getting messed up due to this very liquid constantly falling onto it. Its a complex, but very detailed system.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford sands down and polishes the soldering he'd done, and even tries to color correct. He then looks at the insides and clicks his tongue. "Yer voice box aint the only inconvenient thin aboutcha. Yer more of an art peice than an efficient model, what with all this human like work-ature."

He gently runs his fingers across some wires with a mix of awe and annoyance. "Heres yer problem." He feels of the leaking wires and begins working on repairs. "Its like they wanted you to be able to bleed! Shoulda kept the coolant seperate, n'..." He continues mumbling to himself about the ethics of human-like robotic designs, and the superiority of more inanimate looking creatures.

[hallsoftreachery]

"Hm... I suppose that makes sense, given my creator.." It mutters to itself. "I suppose he wanted something that would give him some sort of familiarity, given he is the only one that makes repairs and adjustments to my physical body or my programs." The Kunstprodukt muses to itself. "Art piece... That makes sense.. Last I remember my name translates to Art Product in one of the languages of the old earth.." In german, he means in german.

Then comes the comment of his creator wanting him to be capable of bleeding, he stops for a moment. "I don't think he would make me like that. He adores me, the ability to bleed could be a compromise on our mission, he wouldn't build me with a weakness like that..." You know what they say about rivers in Egypt.

[papa-mcgucket]

He frowns softly at it. "Yeah...sure." He says gently with an unconvincing smile. Fiddleford knows all about denial. He'll feed into delusions till they're all thats left.

"I do think its neat ya look like this, if not at all convenient. Aaand...there! All patched up" He pulls away with a smile. "This part of ya, anyway. Any other issues? Bits that need replacin, coolant needs refilled?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt opens one of the screens that it had pulled out before, that red hologram casting a soft light onto its hand where its projected from. Its pretty cool that on the screens are deconstructions of its circuits that tell it where everything goes and how it should look alongside what might be damaged.

It marks the arm that just got fixed as "INJURY (?)" since it believes the arm to be injured despite being fixed. It marks the two wires that had gotten loose as fixed but the voicebox as "CAUTION". It marks the level of coolant to be a bit underneath average. Otherwise it seems the many other bodily functions the Kunstprodukt has still work perfectly.

"I do think I may need more coolant.. On the back of my neck there's a small hatch that will open, it's similar to refilling the water in a motor vehicle." It states. It leaves the screen floating there before using that same hand to open the hatch. "I might need to power down my voice box while it leaves its caution state too.. The fluid that fell onto it could damage it further"

The thing about powering down its voice box is that it won't be able to talk, and that is clearly an idea its not very thrilled about. Its very interesting that its so emotive for a machine made of code and metal, if you asked him, he would deny having the capability to feel, but that's clearly wrong.

[papa-mcgucket]

"I could replace it entierly if n' ya'd like me too! Looks pretty easy to replicate...I could shim-sham somthin up! Even make it waterproof! Or, uh, coolant proof, heh heh" He smiles kindly, clasping his hands together

[hallsoftreachery]

"You could? That would be.. Great." It mutters, unsure about showing any sign that it actually believes that Fidd can make something to properly replace it's parts. It looks away for a moment before bringing up a screen with... blueprints? "This is how my voicebox is built. I have archives of how everything built for me was made"

The Kunstprodukt ... slides the screen over? Apparently thats something its holograms can do, and as it said, it has the blueprints for its voicebox. In exchange, it powers of the voice box, moving its mouth to confirm it can't speak anymore. With a soft movement, it clicks the voice-box out of its spot on its chest, and hands it to Fiddleford, entrusting him with the box.

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Right this way. You want me ta get a wheel barrow ta push ya in or somthin? You look like yer havin a hard time standin" He fussed over the machine like its an ingured animal. He doesnt even flinch at the mention of a date so far in the future.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt huffs "I can- Carry myself just fine-" as it moves, it continues using the sniper rifle as a crutch but seems much more capable to move around. Its boots get stuck every so often on the dirt but it seems to be able to get them unstuck. It follows digilently, letting McGucket guide it.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford nods and sighs, leading the robot to his workshop. Its...rather hidden, oddly, and not nearly as welcoming looking as the farmhouse or the man himself. "Come on in" He smiles gently and opens the door, it creeks with rust and effort.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt makes a motion almost like a shudder when the door creaks, the place doesnt make it any more confident in Fiddleford's ability to fix it up, but there's not much it can do otherwise. "...Vintage." Is the only word it says to talk about the state of the workshop. Kunst looks around before finding an empty chair by what he guessed was the work table, resting the rifle against the wall nearby.

Before anything can be done to it, its hands pull up a... hologram? Yeah, a red holographic screen. There's a lot of warning signs, but after a moment of staring at it, Kunst closes it. "The damage is- Open wiring in- My arm." In the entirety of its arm, apparently too. Its quiet when it states the damage, as if ashamed of having been hurt. "My- My shoulder joint has slid off slightly and- and- My wires have been cut near my- my wrist"

Its voice seems to struggle a bit, losing that smoothness just slightly and getting more synthetized and robotic, like what we know as a vocaloid. It takes off the shoulder pieces from its left arm, then it unbuckles the sleeve, sliding it off along with the metal accents and the glove. Its arm is jointed at the elbow and shoulder like a doll, and its fingers are jointed very curiously. Its wrist is also jointed bu you cannot see it, only a triangle-like mark where it joins.

There's a blue liquid seeping from the shoulder joint, its slightly thick, but otherwise seems like a sort of coolant. As stated, its shoulder joint seems off, and its wrist has a massive cut like if a saw-blade had cut it. The same blue liquid pools inside of the cut, but inside you can see colored wires alongside the metal structuring.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford leans in and hums thoughtfully, not yet touching anything. He goes and puts on some gloves, then feels of the shoulder joint. "What if I just-" He pops it back into place like you would a humans dislocated shoulder.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's eyes flash white the moment the joint returns to its place, but it seems to fit perfectly in place. It doesnt speak but does move its shoulder a decent bit. "Surprising." It states, usually, with this amount of damage, it would simply have moved on to V6, abandoning its current shell as "trash", so of course it doesnt really know how to fix any of this type of thing.

"One of the easier fixes for my wrist could simply be soldering another piece of metal in the right shape onto it.." It muses to itself, it stares very intently at the "gash" on its wrist, analyzing its properties, quite literally eyeballing the measurements. "I'd rather not lose any more coolant while im away from the city, im unsure any of the things I could find here would work in the same way I need them to.." It keeps talking out loud to itself, and to be honest, car coolant could probably work on him

[papa-mcgucket]

"Oh, dont worry about that! I got plenty a coolent here my own self!" He smiles then rumages for a welding mask and puts it on, picking up some scrap metal and a blow torch. "Now, let me close up these wounds, then I'll get a look atcher insides!"

[hallsoftreachery]

In it's own weird robot way, aka by increasing the light from its eyes, it expresses a mild worry at the usage of a blow torch to try to fix these. Its biggest worry is that it wont be entirely smooth like before, but it voices none of that. "The measurement should be [blahblah], around this size in this amount of curvature with the curve beginning here"

The kunstprodukt speaks a bit more quietly, its free hand tracing the form onto the metal and leaving some sort of temporary marks on the metal. "There may be some leftover material..." It mutters, seemingly unthrilled about that. It stares for a moment but then simply looks away, moving its ponytail to its other shoulder so it doesnt singe, waiting for Fidds to finish helping it.

[papa-mcgucket]

He nods, understanding all the technicalities, and gets to work. He works fast and efficient, but also with good quality- by the situations standards. He pulls back and flips his mask up. He hums thoughtfully "That should be good fer a patch up. You want me to shine 'er up, or?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt is mildly impressed at the efficiency with which Fiddleford works with, and mild impressment from it is quite an amount, given that it doesnt tend to hold high standards for humans. "...That would be much appreciated" It answers the question. It doesnt like how it looks, its metallic white skin interrupted by the tone of scrap metals and soldering. It's never been one for scars.

While Fidd works on polishing up the patch-up, the Kunstprodukt removes the collar it wears, unbuckling the high belt it wears under its coat, and unbuttoning its shirt. All of this to open the two plates that make up its chest, they click open. "Voicebox... Voicebox.... Thats the most inconvinient voice method...." It mutters to itself, moving something around in there before returning to sitting idly. It was simply turning off a couple things that might make it harder to fix up whatever went wrong in there.

Whenever Fidd gets done, if he moves to seeing how its systems work from the inside, it will find a very impressive sight. The metal armature is in the way of course, but behind it are wires strung around it like muscle and veins, there's a whole RAM unit in there and multiple advanced processors, all surrounding a metal heart shaped object, cartoon heart, not real heart. There's fans closer to the joints which are kicking softly, whirring just the slightest.

Two of the wires that should be connected to it are entirely separate, they leak softly down onto the voice box, which is getting messed up due to this very liquid constantly falling onto it. Its a complex, but very detailed system.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford sands down and polishes the soldering he'd done, and even tries to color correct. He then looks at the insides and clicks his tongue. "Yer voice box aint the only inconvenient thin aboutcha. Yer more of an art peice than an efficient model, what with all this human like work-ature."

He gently runs his fingers across some wires with a mix of awe and annoyance. "Heres yer problem." He feels of the leaking wires and begins working on repairs. "Its like they wanted you to be able to bleed! Shoulda kept the coolant seperate, n'..." He continues mumbling to himself about the ethics of human-like robotic designs, and the superiority of more inanimate looking creatures.

[hallsoftreachery]

"Hm... I suppose that makes sense, given my creator.." It mutters to itself. "I suppose he wanted something that would give him some sort of familiarity, given he is the only one that makes repairs and adjustments to my physical body or my programs." The Kunstprodukt muses to itself. "Art piece... That makes sense.. Last I remember my name translates to Art Product in one of the languages of the old earth.." In german, he means in german.

Then comes the comment of his creator wanting him to be capable of bleeding, he stops for a moment. "I don't think he would make me like that. He adores me, the ability to bleed could be a compromise on our mission, he wouldn't build me with a weakness like that..." You know what they say about rivers in Egypt.

[papa-mcgucket]

He frowns softly at it. "Yeah...sure." He says gently with an unconvincing smile. Fiddleford knows all about denial. He'll feed into delusions till they're all thats left.

"I do think its neat ya look like this, if not at all convenient. Aaand...there! All patched up" He pulls away with a smile. "This part of ya, anyway. Any other issues? Bits that need replacin, coolant needs refilled?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt opens one of the screens that it had pulled out before, that red hologram casting a soft light onto its hand where its projected from. Its pretty cool that on the screens are deconstructions of its circuits that tell it where everything goes and how it should look alongside what might be damaged.

It marks the arm that just got fixed as "INJURY (?)" since it believes the arm to be injured despite being fixed. It marks the two wires that had gotten loose as fixed but the voicebox as "CAUTION". It marks the level of coolant to be a bit underneath average. Otherwise it seems the many other bodily functions the Kunstprodukt has still work perfectly.

"I do think I may need more coolant.. On the back of my neck there's a small hatch that will open, it's similar to refilling the water in a motor vehicle." It states. It leaves the screen floating there before using that same hand to open the hatch. "I might need to power down my voice box while it leaves its caution state too.. The fluid that fell onto it could damage it further"

The thing about powering down its voice box is that it won't be able to talk, and that is clearly an idea its not very thrilled about. Its very interesting that its so emotive for a machine made of code and metal, if you asked him, he would deny having the capability to feel, but that's clearly wrong.

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Right this way. You want me ta get a wheel barrow ta push ya in or somthin? You look like yer havin a hard time standin" He fussed over the machine like its an ingured animal. He doesnt even flinch at the mention of a date so far in the future.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt huffs "I can- Carry myself just fine-" as it moves, it continues using the sniper rifle as a crutch but seems much more capable to move around. Its boots get stuck every so often on the dirt but it seems to be able to get them unstuck. It follows digilently, letting McGucket guide it.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford nods and sighs, leading the robot to his workshop. Its...rather hidden, oddly, and not nearly as welcoming looking as the farmhouse or the man himself. "Come on in" He smiles gently and opens the door, it creeks with rust and effort.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt makes a motion almost like a shudder when the door creaks, the place doesnt make it any more confident in Fiddleford's ability to fix it up, but there's not much it can do otherwise. "...Vintage." Is the only word it says to talk about the state of the workshop. Kunst looks around before finding an empty chair by what he guessed was the work table, resting the rifle against the wall nearby.

Before anything can be done to it, its hands pull up a... hologram? Yeah, a red holographic screen. There's a lot of warning signs, but after a moment of staring at it, Kunst closes it. "The damage is- Open wiring in- My arm." In the entirety of its arm, apparently too. Its quiet when it states the damage, as if ashamed of having been hurt. "My- My shoulder joint has slid off slightly and- and- My wires have been cut near my- my wrist"

Its voice seems to struggle a bit, losing that smoothness just slightly and getting more synthetized and robotic, like what we know as a vocaloid. It takes off the shoulder pieces from its left arm, then it unbuckles the sleeve, sliding it off along with the metal accents and the glove. Its arm is jointed at the elbow and shoulder like a doll, and its fingers are jointed very curiously. Its wrist is also jointed bu you cannot see it, only a triangle-like mark where it joins.

There's a blue liquid seeping from the shoulder joint, its slightly thick, but otherwise seems like a sort of coolant. As stated, its shoulder joint seems off, and its wrist has a massive cut like if a saw-blade had cut it. The same blue liquid pools inside of the cut, but inside you can see colored wires alongside the metal structuring.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford leans in and hums thoughtfully, not yet touching anything. He goes and puts on some gloves, then feels of the shoulder joint. "What if I just-" He pops it back into place like you would a humans dislocated shoulder.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's eyes flash white the moment the joint returns to its place, but it seems to fit perfectly in place. It doesnt speak but does move its shoulder a decent bit. "Surprising." It states, usually, with this amount of damage, it would simply have moved on to V6, abandoning its current shell as "trash", so of course it doesnt really know how to fix any of this type of thing.

"One of the easier fixes for my wrist could simply be soldering another piece of metal in the right shape onto it.." It muses to itself, it stares very intently at the "gash" on its wrist, analyzing its properties, quite literally eyeballing the measurements. "I'd rather not lose any more coolant while im away from the city, im unsure any of the things I could find here would work in the same way I need them to.." It keeps talking out loud to itself, and to be honest, car coolant could probably work on him

[papa-mcgucket]

"Oh, dont worry about that! I got plenty a coolent here my own self!" He smiles then rumages for a welding mask and puts it on, picking up some scrap metal and a blow torch. "Now, let me close up these wounds, then I'll get a look atcher insides!"

[hallsoftreachery]

In it's own weird robot way, aka by increasing the light from its eyes, it expresses a mild worry at the usage of a blow torch to try to fix these. Its biggest worry is that it wont be entirely smooth like before, but it voices none of that. "The measurement should be [blahblah], around this size in this amount of curvature with the curve beginning here"

The kunstprodukt speaks a bit more quietly, its free hand tracing the form onto the metal and leaving some sort of temporary marks on the metal. "There may be some leftover material..." It mutters, seemingly unthrilled about that. It stares for a moment but then simply looks away, moving its ponytail to its other shoulder so it doesnt singe, waiting for Fidds to finish helping it.

[papa-mcgucket]

He nods, understanding all the technicalities, and gets to work. He works fast and efficient, but also with good quality- by the situations standards. He pulls back and flips his mask up. He hums thoughtfully "That should be good fer a patch up. You want me to shine 'er up, or?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt is mildly impressed at the efficiency with which Fiddleford works with, and mild impressment from it is quite an amount, given that it doesnt tend to hold high standards for humans. "...That would be much appreciated" It answers the question. It doesnt like how it looks, its metallic white skin interrupted by the tone of scrap metals and soldering. It's never been one for scars.

While Fidd works on polishing up the patch-up, the Kunstprodukt removes the collar it wears, unbuckling the high belt it wears under its coat, and unbuttoning its shirt. All of this to open the two plates that make up its chest, they click open. "Voicebox... Voicebox.... Thats the most inconvinient voice method...." It mutters to itself, moving something around in there before returning to sitting idly. It was simply turning off a couple things that might make it harder to fix up whatever went wrong in there.

Whenever Fidd gets done, if he moves to seeing how its systems work from the inside, it will find a very impressive sight. The metal armature is in the way of course, but behind it are wires strung around it like muscle and veins, there's a whole RAM unit in there and multiple advanced processors, all surrounding a metal heart shaped object, cartoon heart, not real heart. There's fans closer to the joints which are kicking softly, whirring just the slightest.

Two of the wires that should be connected to it are entirely separate, they leak softly down onto the voice box, which is getting messed up due to this very liquid constantly falling onto it. Its a complex, but very detailed system.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford sands down and polishes the soldering he'd done, and even tries to color correct. He then looks at the insides and clicks his tongue. "Yer voice box aint the only inconvenient thin aboutcha. Yer more of an art peice than an efficient model, what with all this human like work-ature."

He gently runs his fingers across some wires with a mix of awe and annoyance. "Heres yer problem." He feels of the leaking wires and begins working on repairs. "Its like they wanted you to be able to bleed! Shoulda kept the coolant seperate, n'..." He continues mumbling to himself about the ethics of human-like robotic designs, and the superiority of more inanimate looking creatures.

[hallsoftreachery]

"Hm... I suppose that makes sense, given my creator.." It mutters to itself. "I suppose he wanted something that would give him some sort of familiarity, given he is the only one that makes repairs and adjustments to my physical body or my programs." The Kunstprodukt muses to itself. "Art piece... That makes sense.. Last I remember my name translates to Art Product in one of the languages of the old earth.." In german, he means in german.

Then comes the comment of his creator wanting him to be capable of bleeding, he stops for a moment. "I don't think he would make me like that. He adores me, the ability to bleed could be a compromise on our mission, he wouldn't build me with a weakness like that..." You know what they say about rivers in Egypt.

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Right this way. You want me ta get a wheel barrow ta push ya in or somthin? You look like yer havin a hard time standin" He fussed over the machine like its an ingured animal. He doesnt even flinch at the mention of a date so far in the future.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt huffs "I can- Carry myself just fine-" as it moves, it continues using the sniper rifle as a crutch but seems much more capable to move around. Its boots get stuck every so often on the dirt but it seems to be able to get them unstuck. It follows digilently, letting McGucket guide it.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford nods and sighs, leading the robot to his workshop. Its...rather hidden, oddly, and not nearly as welcoming looking as the farmhouse or the man himself. "Come on in" He smiles gently and opens the door, it creeks with rust and effort.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt makes a motion almost like a shudder when the door creaks, the place doesnt make it any more confident in Fiddleford's ability to fix it up, but there's not much it can do otherwise. "...Vintage." Is the only word it says to talk about the state of the workshop. Kunst looks around before finding an empty chair by what he guessed was the work table, resting the rifle against the wall nearby.

Before anything can be done to it, its hands pull up a... hologram? Yeah, a red holographic screen. There's a lot of warning signs, but after a moment of staring at it, Kunst closes it. "The damage is- Open wiring in- My arm." In the entirety of its arm, apparently too. Its quiet when it states the damage, as if ashamed of having been hurt. "My- My shoulder joint has slid off slightly and- and- My wires have been cut near my- my wrist"

Its voice seems to struggle a bit, losing that smoothness just slightly and getting more synthetized and robotic, like what we know as a vocaloid. It takes off the shoulder pieces from its left arm, then it unbuckles the sleeve, sliding it off along with the metal accents and the glove. Its arm is jointed at the elbow and shoulder like a doll, and its fingers are jointed very curiously. Its wrist is also jointed bu you cannot see it, only a triangle-like mark where it joins.

There's a blue liquid seeping from the shoulder joint, its slightly thick, but otherwise seems like a sort of coolant. As stated, its shoulder joint seems off, and its wrist has a massive cut like if a saw-blade had cut it. The same blue liquid pools inside of the cut, but inside you can see colored wires alongside the metal structuring.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford leans in and hums thoughtfully, not yet touching anything. He goes and puts on some gloves, then feels of the shoulder joint. "What if I just-" He pops it back into place like you would a humans dislocated shoulder.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's eyes flash white the moment the joint returns to its place, but it seems to fit perfectly in place. It doesnt speak but does move its shoulder a decent bit. "Surprising." It states, usually, with this amount of damage, it would simply have moved on to V6, abandoning its current shell as "trash", so of course it doesnt really know how to fix any of this type of thing.

"One of the easier fixes for my wrist could simply be soldering another piece of metal in the right shape onto it.." It muses to itself, it stares very intently at the "gash" on its wrist, analyzing its properties, quite literally eyeballing the measurements. "I'd rather not lose any more coolant while im away from the city, im unsure any of the things I could find here would work in the same way I need them to.." It keeps talking out loud to itself, and to be honest, car coolant could probably work on him

[papa-mcgucket]

"Oh, dont worry about that! I got plenty a coolent here my own self!" He smiles then rumages for a welding mask and puts it on, picking up some scrap metal and a blow torch. "Now, let me close up these wounds, then I'll get a look atcher insides!"

[hallsoftreachery]

In it's own weird robot way, aka by increasing the light from its eyes, it expresses a mild worry at the usage of a blow torch to try to fix these. Its biggest worry is that it wont be entirely smooth like before, but it voices none of that. "The measurement should be [blahblah], around this size in this amount of curvature with the curve beginning here"

The kunstprodukt speaks a bit more quietly, its free hand tracing the form onto the metal and leaving some sort of temporary marks on the metal. "There may be some leftover material..." It mutters, seemingly unthrilled about that. It stares for a moment but then simply looks away, moving its ponytail to its other shoulder so it doesnt singe, waiting for Fidds to finish helping it.

[papa-mcgucket]

He nods, understanding all the technicalities, and gets to work. He works fast and efficient, but also with good quality- by the situations standards. He pulls back and flips his mask up. He hums thoughtfully "That should be good fer a patch up. You want me to shine 'er up, or?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt is mildly impressed at the efficiency with which Fiddleford works with, and mild impressment from it is quite an amount, given that it doesnt tend to hold high standards for humans. "...That would be much appreciated" It answers the question. It doesnt like how it looks, its metallic white skin interrupted by the tone of scrap metals and soldering. It's never been one for scars.

While Fidd works on polishing up the patch-up, the Kunstprodukt removes the collar it wears, unbuckling the high belt it wears under its coat, and unbuttoning its shirt. All of this to open the two plates that make up its chest, they click open. "Voicebox... Voicebox.... Thats the most inconvinient voice method...." It mutters to itself, moving something around in there before returning to sitting idly. It was simply turning off a couple things that might make it harder to fix up whatever went wrong in there.

Whenever Fidd gets done, if he moves to seeing how its systems work from the inside, it will find a very impressive sight. The metal armature is in the way of course, but behind it are wires strung around it like muscle and veins, there's a whole RAM unit in there and multiple advanced processors, all surrounding a metal heart shaped object, cartoon heart, not real heart. There's fans closer to the joints which are kicking softly, whirring just the slightest.

Two of the wires that should be connected to it are entirely separate, they leak softly down onto the voice box, which is getting messed up due to this very liquid constantly falling onto it. Its a complex, but very detailed system.

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Right this way. You want me ta get a wheel barrow ta push ya in or somthin? You look like yer havin a hard time standin" He fussed over the machine like its an ingured animal. He doesnt even flinch at the mention of a date so far in the future.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt huffs "I can- Carry myself just fine-" as it moves, it continues using the sniper rifle as a crutch but seems much more capable to move around. Its boots get stuck every so often on the dirt but it seems to be able to get them unstuck. It follows digilently, letting McGucket guide it.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford nods and sighs, leading the robot to his workshop. Its...rather hidden, oddly, and not nearly as welcoming looking as the farmhouse or the man himself. "Come on in" He smiles gently and opens the door, it creeks with rust and effort.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt makes a motion almost like a shudder when the door creaks, the place doesnt make it any more confident in Fiddleford's ability to fix it up, but there's not much it can do otherwise. "...Vintage." Is the only word it says to talk about the state of the workshop. Kunst looks around before finding an empty chair by what he guessed was the work table, resting the rifle against the wall nearby.

Before anything can be done to it, its hands pull up a... hologram? Yeah, a red holographic screen. There's a lot of warning signs, but after a moment of staring at it, Kunst closes it. "The damage is- Open wiring in- My arm." In the entirety of its arm, apparently too. Its quiet when it states the damage, as if ashamed of having been hurt. "My- My shoulder joint has slid off slightly and- and- My wires have been cut near my- my wrist"

Its voice seems to struggle a bit, losing that smoothness just slightly and getting more synthetized and robotic, like what we know as a vocaloid. It takes off the shoulder pieces from its left arm, then it unbuckles the sleeve, sliding it off along with the metal accents and the glove. Its arm is jointed at the elbow and shoulder like a doll, and its fingers are jointed very curiously. Its wrist is also jointed bu you cannot see it, only a triangle-like mark where it joins.

There's a blue liquid seeping from the shoulder joint, its slightly thick, but otherwise seems like a sort of coolant. As stated, its shoulder joint seems off, and its wrist has a massive cut like if a saw-blade had cut it. The same blue liquid pools inside of the cut, but inside you can see colored wires alongside the metal structuring.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford leans in and hums thoughtfully, not yet touching anything. He goes and puts on some gloves, then feels of the shoulder joint. "What if I just-" He pops it back into place like you would a humans dislocated shoulder.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's eyes flash white the moment the joint returns to its place, but it seems to fit perfectly in place. It doesnt speak but does move its shoulder a decent bit. "Surprising." It states, usually, with this amount of damage, it would simply have moved on to V6, abandoning its current shell as "trash", so of course it doesnt really know how to fix any of this type of thing.

"One of the easier fixes for my wrist could simply be soldering another piece of metal in the right shape onto it.." It muses to itself, it stares very intently at the "gash" on its wrist, analyzing its properties, quite literally eyeballing the measurements. "I'd rather not lose any more coolant while im away from the city, im unsure any of the things I could find here would work in the same way I need them to.." It keeps talking out loud to itself, and to be honest, car coolant could probably work on him

[papa-mcgucket]

"Oh, dont worry about that! I got plenty a coolent here my own self!" He smiles then rumages for a welding mask and puts it on, picking up some scrap metal and a blow torch. "Now, let me close up these wounds, then I'll get a look atcher insides!"

[hallsoftreachery]

In it's own weird robot way, aka by increasing the light from its eyes, it expresses a mild worry at the usage of a blow torch to try to fix these. Its biggest worry is that it wont be entirely smooth like before, but it voices none of that. "The measurement should be [blahblah], around this size in this amount of curvature with the curve beginning here"

The kunstprodukt speaks a bit more quietly, its free hand tracing the form onto the metal and leaving some sort of temporary marks on the metal. "There may be some leftover material..." It mutters, seemingly unthrilled about that. It stares for a moment but then simply looks away, moving its ponytail to its other shoulder so it doesnt singe, waiting for Fidds to finish helping it.

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Right this way. You want me ta get a wheel barrow ta push ya in or somthin? You look like yer havin a hard time standin" He fussed over the machine like its an ingured animal. He doesnt even flinch at the mention of a date so far in the future.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt huffs "I can- Carry myself just fine-" as it moves, it continues using the sniper rifle as a crutch but seems much more capable to move around. Its boots get stuck every so often on the dirt but it seems to be able to get them unstuck. It follows digilently, letting McGucket guide it.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford nods and sighs, leading the robot to his workshop. Its...rather hidden, oddly, and not nearly as welcoming looking as the farmhouse or the man himself. "Come on in" He smiles gently and opens the door, it creeks with rust and effort.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt makes a motion almost like a shudder when the door creaks, the place doesnt make it any more confident in Fiddleford's ability to fix it up, but there's not much it can do otherwise. "...Vintage." Is the only word it says to talk about the state of the workshop. Kunst looks around before finding an empty chair by what he guessed was the work table, resting the rifle against the wall nearby.

Before anything can be done to it, its hands pull up a... hologram? Yeah, a red holographic screen. There's a lot of warning signs, but after a moment of staring at it, Kunst closes it. "The damage is- Open wiring in- My arm." In the entirety of its arm, apparently too. Its quiet when it states the damage, as if ashamed of having been hurt. "My- My shoulder joint has slid off slightly and- and- My wires have been cut near my- my wrist"

Its voice seems to struggle a bit, losing that smoothness just slightly and getting more synthetized and robotic, like what we know as a vocaloid. It takes off the shoulder pieces from its left arm, then it unbuckles the sleeve, sliding it off along with the metal accents and the glove. Its arm is jointed at the elbow and shoulder like a doll, and its fingers are jointed very curiously. Its wrist is also jointed bu you cannot see it, only a triangle-like mark where it joins.

There's a blue liquid seeping from the shoulder joint, its slightly thick, but otherwise seems like a sort of coolant. As stated, its shoulder joint seems off, and its wrist has a massive cut like if a saw-blade had cut it. The same blue liquid pools inside of the cut, but inside you can see colored wires alongside the metal structuring.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford leans in and hums thoughtfully, not yet touching anything. He goes and puts on some gloves, then feels of the shoulder joint. "What if I just-" He pops it back into place like you would a humans dislocated shoulder.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt's eyes flash white the moment the joint returns to its place, but it seems to fit perfectly in place. It doesnt speak but does move its shoulder a decent bit. "Surprising." It states, usually, with this amount of damage, it would simply have moved on to V6, abandoning its current shell as "trash", so of course it doesnt really know how to fix any of this type of thing.

"One of the easier fixes for my wrist could simply be soldering another piece of metal in the right shape onto it.." It muses to itself, it stares very intently at the "gash" on its wrist, analyzing its properties, quite literally eyeballing the measurements. "I'd rather not lose any more coolant while im away from the city, im unsure any of the things I could find here would work in the same way I need them to.." It keeps talking out loud to itself, and to be honest, car coolant could probably work on him

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Right this way. You want me ta get a wheel barrow ta push ya in or somthin? You look like yer havin a hard time standin" He fussed over the machine like its an ingured animal. He doesnt even flinch at the mention of a date so far in the future.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt huffs "I can- Carry myself just fine-" as it moves, it continues using the sniper rifle as a crutch but seems much more capable to move around. Its boots get stuck every so often on the dirt but it seems to be able to get them unstuck. It follows digilently, letting McGucket guide it.

[papa-mcgucket]

Fiddleford nods and sighs, leading the robot to his workshop. Its...rather hidden, oddly, and not nearly as welcoming looking as the farmhouse or the man himself. "Come on in" He smiles gently and opens the door, it creeks with rust and effort.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt makes a motion almost like a shudder when the door creaks, the place doesnt make it any more confident in Fiddleford's ability to fix it up, but there's not much it can do otherwise. "...Vintage." Is the only word it says to talk about the state of the workshop. Kunst looks around before finding an empty chair by what he guessed was the work table, resting the rifle against the wall nearby.

Before anything can be done to it, its hands pull up a... hologram? Yeah, a red holographic screen. There's a lot of warning signs, but after a moment of staring at it, Kunst closes it. "The damage is- Open wiring in- My arm." In the entirety of its arm, apparently too. Its quiet when it states the damage, as if ashamed of having been hurt. "My- My shoulder joint has slid off slightly and- and- My wires have been cut near my- my wrist"

Its voice seems to struggle a bit, losing that smoothness just slightly and getting more synthetized and robotic, like what we know as a vocaloid. It takes off the shoulder pieces from its left arm, then it unbuckles the sleeve, sliding it off along with the metal accents and the glove. Its arm is jointed at the elbow and shoulder like a doll, and its fingers are jointed very curiously. Its wrist is also jointed bu you cannot see it, only a triangle-like mark where it joins.

There's a blue liquid seeping from the shoulder joint, its slightly thick, but otherwise seems like a sort of coolant. As stated, its shoulder joint seems off, and its wrist has a massive cut like if a saw-blade had cut it. The same blue liquid pools inside of the cut, but inside you can see colored wires alongside the metal structuring.

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"

[papa-mcgucket]

"Right this way. You want me ta get a wheel barrow ta push ya in or somthin? You look like yer havin a hard time standin" He fussed over the machine like its an ingured animal. He doesnt even flinch at the mention of a date so far in the future.

[hallsoftreachery]

The Kunstprodukt huffs "I can- Carry myself just fine-" as it moves, it continues using the sniper rifle as a crutch but seems much more capable to move around. Its boots get stuck every so often on the dirt but it seems to be able to get them unstuck. It follows digilently, letting McGucket guide it.

[papa-mcgucket]

There's a loud noise outside, followed by every audio device in the instant area becoming noise-y and lights flickering, before they return to normal shortly after. What happened? You may ask, well, if you look and see..

There is a man outside in the middle of the grounds, skin as white as the snow itself, eyes glowing white like if they were screens, and a red, black, and grey weapon held in his arms as if it were goin to disappear the second he let go of it.

He's more so hugging the weapon rather than holding it, as if he had fallen from a high place and had juts landed. There's just the slightest bit of smoke coming from the area where he is, or is it coming from him? Hard to tell. A closer look would reveal that this isnt just a normal "man", is it? Well, ask and see.

[ DAS KUNSTPRODUKT / @hallsoftreachery ]

The man looks up from his porch and brandashes his banjo. "KIDS, STAY INSIDE!" He shouts into the house then glared out at whatever new gravity falls anomoly decided to come bother him. He walks over, holding up his banjo like hes ready to swing it, as if it could do any damage.

[hallsoftreachery]

The figure looks up at Fiddleford, its expression seems empty, but its body language seems lost. It doesnt aim the weapon, instead trying to drag itself away from Fidds. "Where- Where is my- The city where- Where have you brought- Where is this place" Thats.. odd, its not stuttering, but glitching, like if audio was cutting in and out.

The eyes of the "man" flicker, like a screen, losing brightness before regaining it. "My leader- Where is he- You're not- My database its not-" It reaches one of its hands up to its face, putting it beside one of its eyes, which seems to close slightly. Its starting to look more lost. It's grip on the weapon loosens, its a great sniper rifle, massive in size and seemingly in power, but it seems broken.

[papa-mcgucket]

The farmer slowly lowers his instrument. "Well I'll be..." He tilts his head, looking interested and concerned. "Are you alright? Yer a machine a some sort, aint cha?"

[hallsoftreachery]

The machine stares, sensing no more danger as the farmer lowered his weapon, it makes an attempt to stand. It immediately stumbles, utilizing the rifle as a sort of crutch in order to stay "upright". "I am- My- Designation - Das Kunstprodukt v5" It says. A closer look entirely confirms that yes, its a machine. Its visible joints look like doll joints and all.

Just as it's about to say something else, it coughs into its arm, down its mouth a blue liquid trails just the slightly. "Return- I have to return- Duty- My duty isnt over- He's waiting-" Its seemingly getting stressed out at its inability to speak full sentences, putting its hand against its throat and pressing its thumb against the side the edge that joins with its head. It takes a moment before anything happens, but after its eyes suddenly brighten and dim once more, its condition seems to stabilize.

"I'm a machine, that's correct- Das Kunstprodukt V5. Tell me- Where am I?" Its clearly flipped some sort of switch in its systems, because the way its speaking is completely different from before, even if it was due to the audio cutting in and out, it sounded a lot more panicked than it does now. Even though its voice isn't entirely stable still.

[papa-mcgucket]

"Gravity falls, earth, 1982." He says gently, setting the banjo down and holding his hands out in a comforting, submissive gesture, showing he is of no harm. "Yer not from round here, are you? Thats alright. I'm a mechanic, I can help ya. You must have some sort of self preservation system, yes? And you cant complete whatever objective of yers yer concerned about if yer damaged. So let me help."

[hallsoftreachery]

"19- what" It tilts its head, it mutters a few things to itself. "I come from The Tanzstadt- of The Silent Dominion of Earth, year 3701." Kunstprodukt tries once again to stand straight up. It seems to be able to do this once more. "I'll... Ill let you take a look at my circuits- Dont- Dont mess with anything you might not understand." It is very, VERY, doubtful that McGucket will understand its complex circuitry (complex = its a mess, its a massive mess) but it'll give it a shot. "Where is your- Your- Workshop?"