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44
44: Superstitions or views on the occult?
He finds the occult immensely disturbing and hard to believe, but doesn't rule it out as nonsense. After all, he lives in a world where monsters are completely normal--perhaps demons and vampires and Cthulhu exist, too. Also, on a lesser note, he definitely believes that saying "Macbeth" during a play induces terrible luck. He's never been in a play, but somehow that seems completely logical.
31
31: Most prized possession?
His most prized possession is his guitar from what he calls "the golden days" (which would be around 2012-2013-ish). He sometimes tries to play it, but usually keeps it in a case under his armchair in the H.O.W. just for sentiment's sake.
5,8,14,22
5: Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)
It's a goddamn mess. That's all that can really be said. He throws his clothes carelessly on the ground and drops things, tracks mud and monster blood into the house, and never really bothers to do any housework. The only time he ever cleans is when someone forces him to. Otherwise, it's just.. ridiculous. Usually, however, his messes are kept to his bedroom--the H.O.W., where he usually resides, and the rest of the house, are only prone to bearing footprints from muck he's trudged through while working.
8: Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding the indulging.
Squiggly's favorite indulgence is, to put it quite bluntly, sex. That is not to say he is a sex hound or anything of the sort, but when he does indulge in such an activity, it is one he favors. And not necessarily because of the pleasure--sex is a distraction from his crippling self-hatred and worries, and the proceeding exhaustion helps him get proper stasis without struggling or fearing glitch nightmares. Usually, he feels rather flustered, agitated, and somewhat guilty after indulging in such an urge.. the first two due to pride, and the last due to his self-hatred. He kind've believes that no one should ever have the displeasure of having to deal with him intimately. Links up to the self-hatred, really.
14: Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerance, etc.)
Well, first and foremost, he has no fucking elbows. Seriously, his arms bend like macaroni noodles in any which way, rather than on a joint. He also has no nose--it's a slightly raised black stripe where a nose should be. His body is also covered in scratches and scuffs, courtesy of being roughed up from all the monsters he's had to deal with in the past.
22: Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?
He'd probably just scribble on it. Just draw endless loops and squiggles and scratches until he found something more interesting to do. He's not a very creative person.
She gives a small giggle as she notices Squiggly's jump in surprise. "Well, no need to be so crass. I'm Samie. It's nice to meet you." She says with a bright smile, holding her hand out in greeting.
Squiggly hesitated for a moment when she extended her hand. Visitors were always suspicious, and the last time he’d shook hands with someone carelessly, he’d been volted into emergency stasis.
"I’m Squiggly," he said after a lengthy pause, slipping his hands into the back pockets of his beige khakis to display an obvious disinterest in handshakes. “I don’t like visitors.”
"Hello there!"
Squiggly lifted his gaze with a jerk, dropping the newspaper he’d been reading. It’d been way too long since he’d heard a stranger’s voice in the house.
"Jesus fucking Christ, you scared the hell out of me!"
He stood up, smoothing the front of his baby blue button-up and trying to look like he hadn’t just been spooked. It wasn’t until a few minutes had passed that he realized the stranger had greeted him.
"Ah, shit—hey there. Who the fuck’re you?"
Steam slowly seeps from Racy's mouth as one of his spines are touched lightly, turning to grab each of Squiggly's suspenders with a growl. "Damn I missed you." The lovebot doesn't give him a chance to respond, tugging him into a kiss.
He couldn't help but snicker when Racy growled, gripping the bot's spine harder and stroking his thumb along it almost absently. His lips parted to make some sort of derisive remark, but he was suddenly stifled by black lips on his--there was no protest, however. It'd been too long, he couldn't be a little shit right now. No, he had other needs to take care of.
Twisting his other hand into the bot's tie, he used it as leverage to lift himself onto his toes and deepen the kiss. The green lights of his optics flickered and dimmed faintly while a segmented tongue probed suggestively forward.
"Pound town? Really love?" The racybot chuckles as he puts an arm around Squiggly's shoulders. "Consider this me formally asking~"
Squiggly let out a huff of steam, optics flickering as Racy draped an arm around his shoulders. If he could blush, he would've.
"Don't fuckin' question my stupid terms, alright?"
He crossed his arms. As the bot spoke again, his eyebrows arched sharply. Slender, jagged spines extended a few segments. Slowly, the automaton uncrossed his arms, before slipping one behind Racy to toy with one of his spines.
"Formally askin', huh? Well, then let's fuckin' do this, `fore I change my mind or some shit."
"No you won't~" it sang, laughing, and grinned that cheshire grin. "Now run off to your boyfriend, before your core shatters."
"I c-c-can.. fix.. it.."
He staggered to his feet, then dragged himself out of the room, stumbling down the hall and to Peter X's workshop. As expected, the engineer was passed out with his face in his toolbox, and his collection of booze bottles strewn around him.
"Wake up, a-asshole, and fix my shit."
Peter X grumbled and looked up, the imprint of a wrench in his forehead. Upon noticing the damage, the young man cursed and got up, shoving the automaton onto the workbench.
"Alright, fuckface, just fucking sit there while I fix your stupid ass."
Peter X looked up at the nearby monitor.
"Oi, shitty-ass monitor thing with a Q-name! Activate the damn security shit so I can get this moron fixed and go back to my damn nap!"
QWERTY grumbled, but did as told, activating the highest security levels it could in the room, basically sealing it off entirely.
"DoNe SiR!"
"Good. Looks like your stupid fucking computer was useful for once, Spine. Now get your shit together while I fix your useless ass."
