Who is your best friend?
My best friend?
Well, he’s small-sorta-large, huggable, red and great at digging!

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@verdequint
Who is your best friend?
My best friend?
Well, he’s small-sorta-large, huggable, red and great at digging!
How do you feel about your maker?
...Do you really want me to answer that, anon?
Like, do you really want to know?
“Knowin’ Top, it won’t take him long.” Whoo boy did it feel good to finally have all that dust and all those cobwebs off him. He couldn’t really feel the difference, but he could certainly see it. “Seriously, buddy, thanks. If you ever need a favour doin’, let me know, alright? …Nothin’ that involves too much effort though, heh.”
"Better be ready to turn off your auditory sensors temporarily then, unless you wanna let him talk them off!" Quint said, intending it to be a joke. Now that the cleaning's done, he really should be leaving before he finds something else to do inside the room.
"Yeah, sure. I'll put it on your tab." the little green bot replied as he gathered up the things he'd used and the crumpled take-out bag. "Laters!" With that, he left.
“I’ll try.” Hard said, smirking a little despite himself. He really needed to stop downplaying his situation, even if he wanted to keep the mood light. He watched as Quint brushed layers and layers of dust off him, internally glad he didn’t need to breathe because jeez that was a lot of the stuff. “Well, Top’s gonna have one less thing to scream at me about, I guess. Thanks again, buddy.”
Maybe it'd be better if he'd just dragged a hose into the room and wash the dirt off, but that'd make a simple thing more complicated. And muddy. If Quint went with that, he'd never leave the room for days just cleaning everything and that'd defeat the whole point of staying out of sight. ...Any more than what's possible, that is.
Good thing robots don't need to breathe, because one could only imagine the horrific effects that much dust in the lungs could do, if the nose survives it. Quint had to dust off the areas around the joints more compared to the solid areas.
As he worked, however, a nagging feeling kept tugging from the back of his mind, feeling the urge to make some minor repair work on Hard. He had to repeatedly tell it 'no' and 'I've stayed in sight long enough already' for it to stop, but Quint could still feel it linger in his head. Stubborn brat.
"Unless he finds a new one." Quint replied, referring to Top as he finished dusting what he could. "There; all done. Finally!" Stepping back to look over his handiwork, the little green bot gave Hard a thumbs-up, which would be reminiscent of the Blue Bomber.
“You, uh… sure you don’t mind?” Hard couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow a little at the duster. It’d sort out all the dust and cobwebs, sure, but there wasn’t much it’d be able to do about the burger mess. Eh, his shirt was clean enough otherwise. “You’ve already done way more than I would’ve expected you to, buddy, you really don’t have to.”
Yes, he did mind, but he also didn’t mind; Quint’s just doing it so he could have some peace and quiet in his mind again. “I’ve been doing some cleaning here and there anyway; what’s one large bot more?” he said with a huff, waving and twirling the duster in his hand. “Now don’t move.” he added as he started dusting vigorously, creating a large cloud of dust.
The stubborn side of him wanted to tell Quint he was fine, but… staying like this as some sort of stupid punishment to himself had prrrrobably gone on long enough. The more he let himself accumulate dust and dirt, the more Top would probably scream at him.
“…To be honest? Not really.” Hard gave him a bit of a weary smile. Quint wouldn’t be able to do anything about fixing up his limbs, but maybe he’d be able to…
…Nah, he couldn’t ask the little guy to clean him up. He’d already traumatised him enough with all that eating. “I’ve kinda dug myself into a hole here, but I don’t think there’s much you’d be able to do, little guy. I need someone who’d be able to get me out of my room so I can get my dumb ass repaired.”
Of course. Like he even needed to ask that. No robot, in their right minds, would keep themselves all covered in dust. What if dirt got into crucial parts? It’d be a total disaster and must be repaired immedia---
Quint had to mentally kick himself before the side that contained his lab assistant bot mentality geeked out of control. Then again, there’s a reason why he carried a feather duster in his tool belt. “Since I’m already here,” Quint said, taking out the duster. “Might as well finish the job! You, on the other hand, you’re the one to call for a repair job, ‘kay?”
Do you have any special feelings for someone?
You kidding me?
That stuff’s gross!
Do you have any Valentine's Day plans?
Yep! I’m gonna be matchmaker!
“Nah, I’m good. Fizzy stuff gives me gas.” Hard grinned, a little cheekily. This was usually the point where he’d wipe his mouth on the back of his hand, but… yeah, no, that wasn’t happening anytime soon. He didn’t have much of a choice but to leave the mess where it was and hope the bugs didn’t get to him before his brothers did. “Ehh… normally I would, but I got enough spilled down my shirt right now without the risk of adding somethin’ sweet and sticky.”
So… that was pretty much it now, wasn’t it. Hard had been fed, so Quint didn’t have any further reasons to stick around. Whelp, it’d been nice to have the company while it lasted. “Hey, I know I didn’t exactly make it easy on you, but I appreciate you doin’ what you did, buddy. You really didn’t have to.”
Thank goodness Hard didn’t ask for the soda and Quint didn’t bother hiding his relief when he sighed visibly. Well, no point in keeping the drink around for longer; the little green bot popped off the cover of the cup and guzzled down the half-cola, half-water liquid.
Crumpling the now-empty cup and stashing it into the takeout bag for disposal later, Quint gave Hard a look when the latter indirectly thanked him. “Eh, just be thankful that I had...some extra time on my hands. I was bored.” he said coolly as he hopped off the stepladder and folded it closed for ease of handling.
But before he left, Quint looked back at the larger bot, wishing he could kick himself before he asked, “You sure...you’re fine and dandy like that, all covered in stuff and dander?”
Fiiiiiinally. Hard didn’t even care that the fries had gotten soggy, happily getting them chewed up and swallowed in a display that was somehow more unpleasant to watch than last time. Hard didn’t care, though- after months of nothing, it was heaven.
“Hoo boy, that definitely hit the spot.” Shame about the mess from that burger, but there wasn’t really anything he could do about it, so eh. “You didn’t owe me any favours, did ya? ‘Cause we’re definitely square now after that.”
If Quint had already become grossed out with the burger, he was ready to throw the towel in with the soggy fries. Table manners Hard does not have, not that Quint himself is the most dainty eater on the planet. The little green bot made a disgusted face, really wishing that he could turn his visor totally opaque, if only for scenes like this. Erasing memories is out of the question as well; who knows what could be erased and his memory banks aren’t stable to begin with. He tries to extend a helping hand and this is what happens. Never again! But Quint knew that’s impossible.
“Nah, there weren’t any.” Quint replied, taking out a soda cup containing now-diluted cola from the bag, the last item in the combo meal. He looked at it, hesitating and then hating himself for what he’s about to do. “...You want this too?”
“I gotta admit, buddy, I barely know anythin’ about you at all.” From what he’d gathered the little guy was kind of reclusive, so he guessed that wasn’t a surprise. Then again, his memory wasn’t quite what it used to be…
“Listen, don’t worry about my brothers, alright? The one most likely to come in is Top an’ you’ll hear him comin’ from a mile away. Little guy never stops naggin’ me.” He chuckled a little, eyes back on the fries. “C’mon, you givin’ me those things or what? I’m wasting away here.”
“And I like it that way.” Quint muttered under his breath with a pout, but looked when Hard hinted about the fries again. While Quint may think the bigger bot’s being bossy, he does have a point; the sooner he’s done here, the sooner he can leave and not have to meet any other bots.
“Huh, thanks for the tip.” the little green bot said in regards to Top and continued, “Now, open wide!” Once Hard had done so, he dumped the soggy fries in, tapping the box to make sure it was emptied.
“They might? It has been a long time since I last left my room.” Dangit, why’d he have to say that? Now he was going to have to wait even longer for those fries. “I mean they probably won’t, but- …wait, what? Are you seriously a kid?” Hard raised an eyebrow at the much smaller ‘bot, momentarily distracted from the food. “Jeez, I thought you were just short like Top is.”
Geez, so Quint will have to deal with the other 3rd Gens possibly arriving to visit Hard. The big lug had already had the burger, leaving the fries and drink; Quint could just dump them into Hard’s mouth and then take his leave. Surely Hard’s brothers could clean the dust off of him themselves, right?
“Heh, I noticed.” Quint said, looking at the dust with disapproval. The urge to clean is really tugging at his mental circuits, but he didn’t know if he can or even should stick around for longer. “Aren’t they going to get you moving or something?”
When Hard looked surprised to hear that Quint is modeled after a child, the little green bot gave him a look of disbelief, although it’d be hard to see thanks to the opaque visor covering the upper half of his face. “Yeah, I’m a kid; don’t I look like it?” Quint asked, pushing aside the thought of mentioning that he’s a 50-plus-year old kid trapped in a 10-year old’s body.
It was then that Quint realized that he’d spaced out again, and in front of Hard no less. That seemed to be happening often, and he couldn’t figure out why. There’s nothing wrong with him, according to his self-diagnostics, save for the ones that were already wrong to begin with. Quint shook his head and groaned.
“Nah, I just thought of something; I’m fine!” he replied as he turned his attention to the takeout bag in his hand and got the container of fries out. Hopefully that will derail the subject. “I didn’t space out or anything!”
“Musta been somethin’ real distracting. Like those dumb old outfits of mine, heh.” Hard turned his attention to those fries, figuring Quint’s spacing out wasn’t anything too serious. Oh maker, the waiting was just making him want them even more. “C’mon, buddy, dump those things in my mouth before one of my brothers decides to show up.”
It was real distracting all right, not that Hard, or anyone else for that matter, should know. Quint had thought that just minding his own business wouldn’t make him delve into the past (or would it be ‘future’?) too much and too often, but it didn’t seem to be working. The little green bot then made a disgusted face when Hard made him remember the silly outfits the large bot had worn on special occasions. “Guy, I have the mental age equivalent to a 10 year old; don’t start giving me nightmares!” he groaned out of disbelief before he thrust the container of fries to Hard’s mouth.
“Okay, okay! I’m getting to it!” Quint grumbled, about ready to dump the fries in, but he had to stop at what Hard said last. “One of your---Uh, they’re not going to just barge in here without warning, are they...?”
“Jeez, an’ I thought I had a bad attention span.” Hard gave Quint a bit of an amused look, but there was a hint of concern in it, too. How old was this guy, again…? “I was just sayin’ to pour the lot into my mouth or somethin’. You okay there? You sorta zoned out.”
It was then that Quint realized that he’d spaced out again, and in front of Hard no less. That seemed to be happening often, and he couldn’t figure out why. There’s nothing wrong with him, according to his self-diagnostics, save for the ones that were already wrong to begin with. Quint shook his head and groaned.
“Nah, I just thought of something; I’m fine!” he replied as he turned his attention to the takeout bag in his hand and got the container of fries out. Hopefully that will derail the subject. “I didn’t space out or anything!”
Hard waited for a response to his question, but when none came, he just sort of… raised an eyebrow a bit. “Real protective of those fries, huh?” he joked, looking longingly at the bag. The burger was good, but he wasn’t satisfied- not just yet. “Don’t worry ‘bout feedin’ them to me individually, just pour the whole bag into my mouth or somethin’.”
//What could he be doing right now? Would he still be in the vents, cleaning out the tiniest crevices just to avoid from meeting the other Wilybots? What’s stopping him anyway? Did he realize that he’s interacting with a Wilybot? Though technically he is half-Light. But at least Hard knew what make he is! Quint? He wasn’t even sure of himself! This is all Wily’s fault! This is all Rock’s fault! This is all his fault!If only he wasn’tIfonlyhedidn’texistifonlyifonlyIFONLY---// ---‘Don’t worry---or somethin.‘
Quint appeared to snap out of his thoughts, looking around like he’s trying to get a grasp of his surroundings. It took a while before he seemed to become satisfied with what he’d seen and returned his attention to the large bot in front of him. “Uh, you were saying...?” he asked.
“This is the first stuff I’ve eaten in months, sue me.” His inability to starve meant he probably could have done with taking his time and savouring the flavour, but eh. With one more bite the burger was gone, the only evidence it’d ever been there to begin with being the sauce and spilled contents around Hard’s mouth and on his shirt. Top would probably have the robot equivalent of an aneurysm if he could see him now
“Hoo, that hit the spot.” Hard said when he finally finished chewing. He would’ve thumped his chest and burped for emphasis, but sadly he couldn’t do either of those things. “There any fries left, or did you eat ‘em all on the way here?”
“Sure. Just lemme call my friend Lawman and we’ll have your butt sued off in no time.” came Quint’s reply to Hard’s remark. He really should be happy that his efforts weren’t being wasted, even with the mess, but the rising urge to clean the large bot was making it hard. Hard still couldn’t move, and Quint wondered if he’s really going to remain where he sat afterwards.
The burger was finished off with ease; Quint felt envious that Hard had it all to himself as it really was an awesome burger. He should go get some for himself after this. After all, he earned it, he’d felt. Unfortunately, the little green bot had sunk into his own little world to hear Hard’s question. The takeout bag didn’t look empty yet, however.
“Yeah I can chew. I wouldn’t have made you go through all this hassle if I couldn’t.” Finally, the moment he’d been waiting for. He moved his head forwards a bit to take a huge messy bite, closing his eyes and letting out a rather pronounced “Mmm” like he was one of those humans on those yoghurt adverts. The ability to taste things was the best upgrade he’d ever been fitted with, no doubt about it. He reopened his eyes after a moment, not bothering to swallow before talking again. “Even though it would’ve been funny.”
Thank the maker that Hard could chew, else Quint would’ve quit right then and there. Even though he’d thought of this idea himself and even with Hard telling him that the 3rd Gen wouldn’t have agreed if he couldn’t chew, the little green bot has his limits. “Har har, very funny. Don’t forget; I’m holding the burger you’re eating.” he said with a huff.
Quint, despite being used to being around messy, dirty places, made a face at Hard’s messy table manners. ‘Yeesh, this will be the last time I help someone eat!’ he thought to himself in disgust, wishing he’d brought a water hose with him. Not that he hadn’t thought of giving the 3rd Gen a good dust-down; that’s why he’d brought a feather duster!
“Dude, where are your manners?” Quint asked in exasperation when Hard talked with his mouth full. “I know the burger’s awesome, but geez...It’s like I’m watching a meat grinder...grind stuff!” Probably an exaggeration.