Work Text:
The polluted sky grew dark as acid rain began to fall from above and down onto the soot ridden ground. Puddles scattered across and overfilled the footprints and tracks of an average 24/7 work routine with many droplets having clung onto the rust and fabric. All of it would gather and pool over the piles of parts across the entire area, all while several giant cranes stood tall and unbothered against the ongoing fall of this very toxic downpour.
From behind one of these cranes, there sat a giant, metal mound made out of various plates melded together with a crooked, rectangular door standing in front. Thanks to the constant exposure to the elements over the years, corrosion has already been eating away at the material with many signs indicating that new plates were melded on top of the old ones. At least there was the wide foundation at the bottom keeping it together, albeit with more of the same stuff but with nuts and bolts hammered deep into the ground.
A small source of light emitted from inside from what can be described as a makeshift lamp. Its entire composition was made from the light of a worker's badge, some exposed wires, and a small, rectangular battery covered in a slight acidic coating. All of it was just enough for the figure sitting on the piles of worn-out fabric, a large fellow with wide shoulders and a sizable pair of chompers to boot. Their gear-covered optics blinked together as they looked towards the table in front with several trinkets and items spaced out into different groups. One with rusted coins, the other with business cards crumpled and ripped, and the last one being miscellaneous objects that were broken in some way be it shattered glass or jagged dents. Their fingers curled together and would poke one of these objects, enough for the skelecog to emit a small, static sound from their faded voicebox. Curious as one would be to such discarded goods, it nevertheless didn’t stop them from trying to remember an item’s previous at one point in time. It would be considered a hobby for sure, not that there was much to do in a place like this surrounded by the parts of your own kind.
Suddenly, several knocks were made outside as the door in front would be pushed aside. While the rain continued to pour down, there stood a tall, bulky figure, covered in a dark, polyester raincoat. The right eye socket on their face was empty and wide open while the left one was still intact with slight wear over the thin, silicon coating. Even the light rods were cracked and chip from the top to bottom that exposed the metal wires and inner glass base to the outside elements.
The large skelecog nodded with a smile on their fractured dentures and waved their left hand in a friendly gesture. This made the taller one nod back and they would soon walk over towards them. What’s interesting was that in the bulkier skelecog’s left hand, they were carrying a small pouch of sorts. It’s no doubt that they were checking out for anything of interest during the rainstorm outside, no matter how risky it was to go during such deadly weather. After all, they couldn’t afford to let such precious items waste away by the acidic rain and never to be truly appreciated again once ruined.
The raincoat was tossed near the door entrance by the taller skelecog before they squatted down on one fabric pile and leaned slightly forward.. Delicate, rusted fingers would untie the rope around the thick pouch and soon open up to splay out more items onto the flat surface of the scrap cube table. This made the large one slowly clap their hands together with both eyelids shut together. They seemed ecstatic with the items found. There were all sorts of goodies gathered during the taller’s one offtime, little trinkets of all sorts:
A earlier rendition of the penny with the face of a rather grump penny pincher, ripped up ties strung together as a chew toy for someone’s pet goon, a golf ball with obscene graffiti drawn on by some angry cog, a crumpled magazine cover advertising the old tech like bulky landline phones, and so much more.
One item caught the interest of the wider skelecog, a piece of old toon memorabilia from the 80’s era. It was a broken game console called a, “Doodlecom”. While it was very broken to where the driver and circuit board were crushed in several pieces, it was still an interesting fine for them nonetheless. As this one saw it as a very vital part of history in terms of video game development.
Meanwhile, the bulky skelecog would hold onto a broken pair of sunglass shades. It held onto one of the temples as it dangled off from their hand. It would be placed in front of their face where their optic(s) would be as they gave a thumbs up with their right hand as with magic, they held a worn out business card advertising something, but with how faded it is, the name of the business couldn’t be made along with the phone number to reach it. Who knows if the place in question is still running with how old and worn the card is.
The large skeleclog clapped with both hands as they were seemingly impressed by the display showcased. In a kind gesture returned, their wide optics turned to the table to see the different items on the table. They would drag their pointer finger towards the keychain with a gear attached to it. The words signed, although faded, can be read as, “Platinum Auto”, pressumblingly the name of a former automobile company.
With only their hands to communicate and the occasional beep or two, the large one motioned their hands with sign language to explain a story related to their visit and how disastrous it was. The salesbot was busy wasting away in the back alley in cigars and oil, the interior of the car looked and smelled like expired jelly beans, and the engine was powered by a tiny cockroach running in a hamster wheel. Turns out, the place was hijacked by toons for several months to where the business was on its last legs and were desperate for anyone to buy their low-quality cars for a high price.
The bulky skelecog would let out a chipper beat, as if amused by the story. They signed back that they should’ve checked the review sites before deciding to go there. Better safe than sorry after all.
This made the other skelecog hum in a low tone as they waved their right hand, dismissive towards the reaction from the other. Instead, they would direct the other’s attention towards the other objects on the table and continued on with their normal conversation with hand gestures and static sounds as they shared thoughts and topics related to such things.
Some hours passed, and only after rummaging through the last of the items did the wider skelecog feel the need to tap the other’s left shoulder part. This made them let out a small, chipper sound as they tilt their head, knowing it meant that there was something important from the other that needed to be shared.
Soon, they would lean over to grab a small bag from the side. Their hand would reach down and pull out a small photo frame before handing it over to their friend. What would soon follow was no surprise at all, as they could see the taller skelcog’s optics start to become watered with oil around their right optic. The metallic hands gently grab onto the sides of the frame followed by the crackling static coming from their old voicebox.
In the picture was a smiling Mr. Hollywood, posing with so much pride against a background of stars and planets, with the words, “NOVA”, spelled in giant, purple letters.
The large skelecog would sign in the clearest manner possible how they had made a deal with a bottom feeder cog to find any old memorabilia of their hollywood friend in exchange for a rare, collector’s edition of a one cogbuck coin. What ended up happening was the bottom feeder was scavenging all over the factory rooms and even several within the HQ itself. After all that, the cog ended up finding an open box wasting away in the darkest part of the warehouse where inside contained shattered pics of former cogs that were, at one point in time, on top of the world.
The bulky one wouldn’t stop with the sounds of static as they held the picture close to their rusted chest. After having been decommissioned since long ago, they felt like they were forgotten by the world and by everyone they knew. That any trace of them would vanish and be replaced with newer, upcoming talent. To them, this was some proof of their former existence. A glimpse of what they were once, and what they still believe themselves to be. A bright star shining within the dark skies above.
The large skelecog would pat the other’s shoulder as a form of comfort while oil would continue to pour down their exposed teeth. They let their friend enjoy their past memory of their once former glory days until the dust settled. Only then did they carefully take the photo away and place it back in the bag. They gestured that the picture will be kept within the rusted safe box and they can look at it anytime they want.
This made the other pull the wider skelecog for a hug as a way of saying thank you in the most emotional manner possible. Even though they both were left to rot here in the dregs of cog society, at least they had each other's company and whatever stories they would share with each to pass time between work shifts.
So in the meantime, they continued their time together, covered from the rain above with the memories of their own selves forever still remain intact and never to be forgotten.