[DRABBLE]
XD; It came out as a liiiiitttlle more than a drabble, but just because I gave it a little padding for people who aren't familiar with the Megaman universe, events (like the Cataclysm) or people.
Player: kuna_emie
Subject: Bass
Table: C [ Prompt Table]
Prompt: 17. Lullaby
It had been many, many years since the Cataclysm had happened, but thanks to his robot brain he remembered it as if it was yesterday.
A sudden darkening of the sky; a sharp outcry as several robots on the network all went wild at once, the world's first Mavericks; the death screams of the first humans to fall. A flash of green light from an energy sword that even buildings couldn't resist. Evil, echoing laughter. So much destruction... Many good robots fought, but the onslaught of the Virus was too much and they succumbed, each to die in kind.
Not even Megaman stood up against it, not for very long at least, and the world lost its hero.
Reflecting on it, Bass wasn't even sure how he'd survived. It had been a long struggle and he definitely remembered being attacked. Over half of his body had to be replaced after it was all over. But he had still been alive, somehow. The only difference was that now he was truly alone.
Bass had been the very last of the robots of his "generation" to make it through the Cataclysm, at least as far as he could tell. True, they could be in hiding in this new wasteland, but if even he could barely stand against the Anti-Robot Resistance cropping up, what chance did they have?
The sun filtered through the pollution-soaked clouds, giving the ruins of Dr. Light's labs a hazy, eerie glow. Back at the height of its time this had been the hub of the world's foremost robotic intelligence and creation, but now it was barren and rusted, just like everything else. Bass was the only one who had been here in ages, since the Resistance had decided there were no "dangerous Mavericks" here a few years back. Pushing open the door with no small amount of force he walked inside, coughing reflexively at the thick dust that immediately clogged his intake chambers.
The inside looked even worse than the outside. Tables were overturned and metal panels had long since fallen from their place on the walls. Anything even remotely organic had turned to dust, and everything else was rusting its own way to oblivion. He couldn't even explain why he'd been drawn here. Maybe it was to see where Megaman and his family had finally fallen while he continued to live on, without a purpose now. Maybe it was because of some foolish hope that something in here could be salvageable. Or maybe it was because he felt something inexplicably drawing him closer, almost as if it was calling out to him, something hidden awa--
Bass stopped short when something crunched oddly under his foot. Stepping back he knelt down, scooping the object out of the layers of dirt and grime that littered the floor. As he brushed it off the sudden, weak tinkle of music broke through the heavy silence and he stared at it in confusion, until he realized it was a small music box. Wiping the dust off with a little more care now he stared at it as it played feebly in his hands.
Hnh. Probably something that used to belong to Roll, Megaman's "sister" robot. He sneered at it and made a motion as if to crumple it, but he stopped before he got far. There wasn't really any point. And the calming music was a callback to the time before the Cataclysm, a link to the past he couldn't destroy. Sighing softly, listening to it tinkle on, he looked up at the wreckage of the labs.
Long ago, Bass had worked out the rage at feeling "abandoned" by his rival, who had gone off to fight for humanity instead of battle with him. These days, so many years later, there was just an emptiness there, which seemed magnified in this place Megaman used to live. Pity that it took the end of the world to make him see beyond his own foolish gains. He looked back down at the music box as the tune faded, the inner workings jerking to a stop and letting silence reign again.
As he contemplated it, he was struck with the sudden desire to fix it. He had tools he had scavenged, and he had practice: after all, he was the one who maintained his own body now, as nearly everyone else capable of it was dead or in hiding. A music box should be no problem, right?
Taking care not to crunch it any further, Bass tucked it away and turned to make his way out, pausing at the door to glance around and make sure the coast was clear before moving outside. The box's lullaby still drifted through his mind, to be heard at full strength once again before the night was through, to once again make him forget, for just a little while, that now he was alone.
Player: kuna_emie
Subject: Bass
Table: C [ Prompt Table]
Prompt: 17. Lullaby
It had been many, many years since the Cataclysm had happened, but thanks to his robot brain he remembered it as if it was yesterday.
A sudden darkening of the sky; a sharp outcry as several robots on the network all went wild at once, the world's first Mavericks; the death screams of the first humans to fall. A flash of green light from an energy sword that even buildings couldn't resist. Evil, echoing laughter. So much destruction... Many good robots fought, but the onslaught of the Virus was too much and they succumbed, each to die in kind.
Not even Megaman stood up against it, not for very long at least, and the world lost its hero.
Reflecting on it, Bass wasn't even sure how he'd survived. It had been a long struggle and he definitely remembered being attacked. Over half of his body had to be replaced after it was all over. But he had still been alive, somehow. The only difference was that now he was truly alone.
Bass had been the very last of the robots of his "generation" to make it through the Cataclysm, at least as far as he could tell. True, they could be in hiding in this new wasteland, but if even he could barely stand against the Anti-Robot Resistance cropping up, what chance did they have?
The sun filtered through the pollution-soaked clouds, giving the ruins of Dr. Light's labs a hazy, eerie glow. Back at the height of its time this had been the hub of the world's foremost robotic intelligence and creation, but now it was barren and rusted, just like everything else. Bass was the only one who had been here in ages, since the Resistance had decided there were no "dangerous Mavericks" here a few years back. Pushing open the door with no small amount of force he walked inside, coughing reflexively at the thick dust that immediately clogged his intake chambers.
The inside looked even worse than the outside. Tables were overturned and metal panels had long since fallen from their place on the walls. Anything even remotely organic had turned to dust, and everything else was rusting its own way to oblivion. He couldn't even explain why he'd been drawn here. Maybe it was to see where Megaman and his family had finally fallen while he continued to live on, without a purpose now. Maybe it was because of some foolish hope that something in here could be salvageable. Or maybe it was because he felt something inexplicably drawing him closer, almost as if it was calling out to him, something hidden awa--
Bass stopped short when something crunched oddly under his foot. Stepping back he knelt down, scooping the object out of the layers of dirt and grime that littered the floor. As he brushed it off the sudden, weak tinkle of music broke through the heavy silence and he stared at it in confusion, until he realized it was a small music box. Wiping the dust off with a little more care now he stared at it as it played feebly in his hands.
Hnh. Probably something that used to belong to Roll, Megaman's "sister" robot. He sneered at it and made a motion as if to crumple it, but he stopped before he got far. There wasn't really any point. And the calming music was a callback to the time before the Cataclysm, a link to the past he couldn't destroy. Sighing softly, listening to it tinkle on, he looked up at the wreckage of the labs.
Long ago, Bass had worked out the rage at feeling "abandoned" by his rival, who had gone off to fight for humanity instead of battle with him. These days, so many years later, there was just an emptiness there, which seemed magnified in this place Megaman used to live. Pity that it took the end of the world to make him see beyond his own foolish gains. He looked back down at the music box as the tune faded, the inner workings jerking to a stop and letting silence reign again.
As he contemplated it, he was struck with the sudden desire to fix it. He had tools he had scavenged, and he had practice: after all, he was the one who maintained his own body now, as nearly everyone else capable of it was dead or in hiding. A music box should be no problem, right?
Taking care not to crunch it any further, Bass tucked it away and turned to make his way out, pausing at the door to glance around and make sure the coast was clear before moving outside. The box's lullaby still drifted through his mind, to be heard at full strength once again before the night was through, to once again make him forget, for just a little while, that now he was alone.