#at4w pollo

[lazuelazuli]

“I am Legion and I am awesome!”

You sure are, buddy! 🥰

[writerofweird]

So I tried drawing Linkara’s Pollo and Eliza as they look in my story Eliza Gets Real and I accidentally ended up making them look like characters from a 90′s Nickelodeon cartoon and now all I can think about is how I’d watch the hell out of such a show if it existed.

[needsmoreexplosions]

me: here’s a post about a sassy robot who isn’t afraid to assert that they are just as much of a person as a human

at least thirty of yall: this is so freaky!! i hope this never happens… this is why we gotta stop robots before they cause the apocalypse!!!

me:

[writerofweird]

Eliza Gets Real (At4W kinda-creepypasta)

(Slight spoilers for At4W’s recent holiday arc)

So my fifth birthday was the best one yet, not that that's saying much. A promise of a jacket, a cupcake with a candle in it and the defeat of a malevolent spirit was certainly better than lying on your foam belly for hours on end, pondering on life and being.

I rarely ever got birthday or Christmas presents, and I've wondered if that was because I was a Christmas present. I always have been. Though I had a birthday, I wasn't really born, I never hatched from an egg, I was constructed and then later given sentience so I could be a Christmas gift. Yes, you read that right.

I'm only five years old, but I know far too much. I can fix robots, I know about the great taste of coffee, and I suppose I knew I was a weird creature from the get-go. Sometimes I would entertain the notion that there were others like me out there, other living foam lizards, but I knew I was just supposed to be a representation of something, not the actual thing itself. I had no tongue to stick out, I couldn't open my mouth to eat bugs, I wasn't cold-blooded because I had no blood.

I had thought so long about that, especially after that certain incident. I suppose that's why I was so hurt about those words; they reminded me that I was supposed to be fake. I was supposed to be a thing.

And that's why this one present initially felt to me like an insult.

The night after the incident with the ghost, I retired to bed - a little shoebox on a table next to a coffee cup - only to feel a burst of energy when I saw a wrapped present there with a label reading "Happy Birthday Eliza". I tore open the wrapping paper as quickly as my stubby foam limbs could, and was greeted by a copy of The Velveteen Rabbit.

I had heard about that story. A toy with sentience, just like me, only the story ends with him becoming an organic creature. Though I had come to the conclusion that life around here would still be weird if I were alive, there were times I had wondered what it would be like if I were a real lizard, or even a human being. I wondered if anyone else knew.

There was a note on the cover: "You're real to us" which softened the sting. I understood what everyone was trying to do, at least I thought I did. They were trying to tell me that I was "real" in the sense I was part of their family, and this book was supposed to be a metaphor about my life. With that in mind, I opened the book and read.

I must admit a, what do you call it, "big mood" when I read the first pages. The Velveteen Rabbit was a Christmas gift, and was frequently ignored. Who does that sound like? I read on, about the rabbit becoming beloved, meeting the creatures he was an imitation of and just when I was reaching the end...

I came face to face with the Rabbit.

I turned a page and suddenly, one page was not made of paper, but flesh. A sheet of skin, with half a furless rabbit trying to escape out of it. A naked rabbit with eyes seemingly popping out of its sockets, two yellow buck teeth that reminded me of fenceposts, and thin arms with thin claws that shook around when it was revealed.

Before I could run away, it grabbed me and held me tightly. As much as I struggled against its grasp, it was no use, and all that came from my struggling was my sunglasses falling off.

The rabbit stuffed me into its mouth.

As much as I wanted to escape, I was completely paralysed as acid seemed to fill my body, my every limb stinging harshly. It felt like worms had entered my body and were stretching and inflating. The stick that came out of my back, my spine, shrunk and grew at the same time. I could feel it shrivelling away, yet I also felt it dominating my whole body. My head felt like it was being torn in two, in fact, my whole body felt like it was being torn apart and put back together again.

The rabbit spat me out, right next to my sunglasses.

I reached to pick them up with my claws, then I noticed I had claws.

Where there were once little stubs of foam were what resembled miniature human hands, covered in purple scales that glistened in the light, claws at the ends of each finger. Looking down, I saw I was standing on my hind legs, those hind legs were also covered in scales and my feet had toes and claws.

I placed my hand on my chest. I heard thumping.

Immediately, I looked for the closest reflective surface I could find, and found it in the mug which I had guzzled coffee out of. When I looked at the mug, a real lizard stared back at me.

I laughed, and I swore a tear rolled down my scaly cheek as I looked at my hands again. All those years of wondering what I was, all those years of attempting to comprehend my existence, I had found the solution. Despite what I had told the Ninja Style Dancer, I felt closer to the world than ever before. As I looked in the mirror mug, I smiled, I frowned, I stuck out my newly-formed tongue - I can't even describe how the air tasted - I even picked my nose.

It was truly my birthday. Eliza the Foam Lizard was dead and Eliza the Real Lizard was born in her place.

Any attempt on my brain's part to rationalise this was drowned out with "I'M REAL I'M REAL I'M REAL" and so I said to no-one in particular, 'Let's take this out for a test drive.' I still could talk, and at the time, that seemed the strangest thing about my new form. I didn't dwell on it, however, as I was too focused on drinking the leftover coffee in the cup I saw my reflection in. The coffee would be cold, but I had to experience taste now that I had a tongue.

I placed my claws on the edge of the cup and dipped my head in as far as I could, licking up the cooled coffee. As I tried to sit down, I accidentally made the cup fall over, spilling coffee all over me. As I lay on the table, I looked at how the coffee brought out my new scales and then laughed, even flapping my limbs to make a "coffee angel".

Still feeling like I needed to test my taste, I hopped off the table, and went to hunt like the animal I had become. Not for living prey, but for my birthday cupcake which had gone uneaten. I crept around the floor, looking around every corner, sticking out my tongue as I did so. When I saw my prize, I crawled up onto the tabletop before ripping off the clingfilm with my claws. From the cupcake, I grabbed a massive lump of it and stuffed it into my mouth, chewing slowly, relishing the flavour. It seemed to cleanse my very insides.

After I swallowed, I lay eyes on a nearby knife. I looked at it, then back at my tail and thought, 'What the heck?' I kicked the knife down onto the floor before jumping off and grabbing the knife. 'Guys, guys!' I cried, 'Cut off my tail! See if it grows back!'

Someone did respond to my calls.

A big colourless rooster.

Even in a setting known for a number of surreal occurrences, the appearance of the rooster with his hypnotic head-bobbing as he walked seemed to have come from a dream. Even then, I knew who he was.

'Pollo?'

'Eliza,' he said, in a less tinny version of his regular voice, 'I've been looking for you. Oh good, you came armed.'

'So...'

'I don't like this, Eliza. This thing that converted me and you to these organic forms must be stopped.'

'Why?'

'As you can see, it didn't stop with just you. What it did can be undone with its death...'

'But why?' I repeated, 'Why would you want to undo this?' I gestured towards my new form, tears again welling up in my eyes. 'I've never been so happy...I...I feel more like I belong!'

'Do they?' Pollo pointed with his wing towards a number of comic books, or at least what used to be comic books.

They all resembled that certain page in The Velveteen Rabbit; blocks of flesh with heads and bodies attempting to escape. The heads and bodies of superheroes, fused with their costumes. I saw several Batman heads with empty eyes and pointed ears. Tattooed heads with no face other than two large eyes, Spider-men brought to life. Several comic books made of flesh, controlled by pseudo-superheroes, crawling on the floor through whatever limbs they had poking through the page.

All of them screaming and moaning.

All of them approaching us.

'We at least had the luxury of sentience before our conversion, Eliza,' explained Pollo, 'these things only have the vaguest idea of what they're supposed to be. What they do know, however, is pain, because that's what their existence is.'

It was then it hit me. What that creature from that book did. Imagining the transformation those comic books went through, and remembering that I was foam turned into flesh and blood and bone and scales and muscles and organs, made me release my coffee and birthday cupcake onto the floor.

All of the hero-heads clenched their teeth in anger, attempting to grab onto me. I shuddered, holding the knife towards them right before my tail actually fell off my body. That was when I decided to run, letting the living comic books focus on what I had shed. Without my tail though, I felt a lack of balance and stumbled to-and-fro, crashing straight into a wall. 'No...'

'Eliza,' said Pollo, running up to me as he flapped his wings, 'find the book creature and kill it.'

'I can't...'

Pollo sighed. 'Ironic that it's after you become a "real girl" I have to be your Jiminy Cricket. Those comic books are in extreme pain; returning them to their former state would be a mercy.'

I couldn't help but tremble, biting my lip. What seemed like a release after years of doubt and uncertainly now felt like it would turn my new stomach inside out. My hold on the knife tightened.

There was so much to do though. So much that had been kept from me in my foam state. After what I had seen, I still wanted to feel the sun against my back, to feel water around my ankles, to taste more food and guzzle down more drink.

'The more the creature converts, the more powerful it becomes. When it becomes more powerful...well, if it can turn inorganic things into organic animals, what do you think it does to born organic beings?'

That's what got me back on my feet, attempting to navigate the halls despite the loss of balance I felt, which led to a lot of notches in the walls. The plastic flies I saw on the ground only made me move faster.

I saw the Rabbit, looking for human victims.

'Hey!' I cried, and it turned towards me, showing off its blank eyes and yellowed teeth and bent whiskers. 'How's this for a magic fairy kiss?' I cried as I plunged the knife into its skull.

It let loose a scream that stung my eardrums, and that was the last thing I felt as a real lizard.

In the apparent blink of an eye, Pollo was once again a robot, the comic books were again comic books, I heard a fly buzz away and I...easy come, easy go. At least my tail was restored in the transformation.

'It was nice while it lasted,' I said to Pollo as I hopped towards him, 'thanks for the help.'

Pollo then explained how he knew killing the rabbit would restore us, and that was that he learned it from he who had gave me that book. The creepy guy in the top hat, who apparently gifted me that book because he thought I'd be happier organic. I suppose I had to appreciate that at least.

That said, I'm certain if given another chance to be real, I would refuse point blank. I may not have a stomach anymore, but remembering this incident still makes me feel like vomiting.

[needsmoreexplosions]

It's midnight but I had a headcanon about my favorite robot Pollo hated the Age of Ultron movie and when he mentions this fact everyone assumes it's because of Ultron himself. It's not. He's a pretty good villain, even if Pollo is tired of the robot rampage trope. It's because Age of Ultron is FUCKING ABYSMAL

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Pollo

My boy...

First impression: Not much to say on my first impression. It was not love at first sight; I liked him okay.

Impression now: LOOK AT MY SON,,, PRIDE IS NOT THE WORD I’M LOOKING FOR

Favorite moment

Idea for a story: hoooly shit, i’ve got so much to write about him. I want to do a series of one-offs about the His Blue Soul arc, the one where he “died” and his consciousness was downloaded into the Tom Servo puppet. It would be a great way to get an introspective look at Pollo’s life and how he connects with those around him, as there was a period of a couple months where he physically couldn’t move and tell everyone he was okay?? that’s horrible and so unexplored... I actually published a one-shot last month taking a brief look at this. I also want to write about his creation and how he developed personally from a prop to a person and oh gosh, i could write for ages

Unpopular opinion: I think him being my favorite character is uncommon enough. 

Favorite relationship: Him and Linkara, naturally. 

Favorite headcanon: Again, I have so many. I’ll stick to a big one though-  The main diverging point in the main universe versus Mechakara’s is that after Pollo was first activated and Linkara found out that he couldn’t speak, the other universe’s Linkara gave up on him kind of forgot about him, while our Linkara not only worked on him, but learned to treat him more like a person. 

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📂

The only thing Pollo fears more than becoming Mechakara is the people around him treating him like he will. He’s afraid that the people he calls friends always keep in mind that he’s a potential evil.

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me: well since the roleplay scene is dead but I don't know what to do with this spare URL, I should figure out what to do with my Pollo blog me, 3 seconds later: [using the URL to reblog Date A Robot suggestions]