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The city streets were mellow this evening. Such autumn nights became colder with each passing day, and recent rainfall did little to help the chilly sting of the wind. Reflecting up from the wet asphalt were glimmers of street lights; the only stars visible in the light-sick city. Though, with how little the sky could be seen, alleys and by-ways alike remained entrenched in darkness just murky enough to shroud anyone who lurks within. There, in that darkness, laid a man of ruffled hair and drowsy eyes, shielded by glass darkness of his own. His arms were crossed with an E-tank in hand, and a foot kicked up on the brick wall of the alley. He watched, absently, as people passed by without noticing him at all.
It had become quite boring these past few weeks. Nothing notable to know, and Wily had not caused much of a ruckus outside of some rumors about sketchy deals on illicit robot parts. It would be more unusual to assume Wily was not up to something anyways. he couldn't help but scoff at the thought as he adjusted his scarf.
I haven't visited the old man in a while, he thought, rocking his head back and forth, maybe I should… Eh, why not.
Kicking off the wall, he grabbed his bag off the ground and slipped the handle over his shoulder. Once it was securely kept in place, he jumped up twice his height, grabbing onto a metal pipe that stuck out of the alley's plaster. With the very tips of his fingers and foot plates, he scaled the wall with such expertise it was almost feline in motion. From pipe to pipe, hopping between windowsills, he maneuvered until the roof of the building came into view, emerging at the top triumphantly.
Once both feet were firmly placed on the roof, he ran across the top towards the parallel alley. With momentum built, he flung himself into the air, clearing the alley in one leap, and landing safely on the next building over. Each jump made him seem lighter than air, and each time he hit the ground, his metal body was nearly silent. Like a blur of scarlet and gold, he ran effortlessly across the city rooftops, as he knew the exact scale of every building and location of each loose brick.
Low, he began, then climbed his way up towards higher-rise buildings of business and residence alike. Common eyes were caught and watched in awe as he soared over streets like a tern. To him, he felt free like one too. Not tethered to a feeding hand against his will. He could come and go, and visit whoever he liked as he willed. He would climb, higher and higher, his scarf whipping behind him like a trail of gold. Up, he went, until much above the city lights. Far enough that if he were to fall all the way down to the ground, that would be the end of him. But no fear crossed his mind, as he grabbed a familiar windowsill and hoisted himself up to sit on it. Gingerly, he pushed open the window, as this one alone was always unlocked just for him.
"Shut the hell up!"
He stumbled into the room, trying to keep quiet as he heard the shout. The sound of muffled yelling came from beyond the door, the loudest one ringing clearly as Bass' voice. Sighing, he decided to sit on the bedside and wait for the fighting to stop.
"No, I'm not! Make a new damn robot for all I care!"
Something was thrown, as loud clattering pierced the night. He winced.
"You're always makin' some new thing you say will be even bigger! Stronger! And then what's gonna happen to me if you do, huh?" A brief pause, "you think I could just let myself be weaker than anything else you make?"
He could faintly make out Wily's muffled voice, as if trying to reason with Bass. But it was no use. A frustrated holler, and the sound of stomping immediately followed.
"Now, Bass, you can't just—"
"Yeah, I can, actually! Screw off, old man!" He could practically hear the middle finger being flipped at Wily.
He could hear Bass stomping over to the room. Putting on a winning smile, he propped his head up on a hand and leaned to the side.
"Damn it, I'm gonna throw a hunk of metal at him next time—" Bass stopped at the border between the hallway and his room. Moments prior, his face was lined in pure ire, but the moment he looked towards his bed, his expression softened. While still coarse, it was more focused than angry.
"Blues!" Bass chirped, his pupils widening at him, "what are you doing here?"
"Thought I would surprise you," Blues chuckled, "seems I hit you at a bad time."
"Yeah, whatever. I'd rather you hit me than him," Bass scoffed, kicking the door closed behind him. With a roll of his shoulders, he put a hand akimbo, "screw the old man, he's just being pathetic again."
"Making a new robot that will be his 'strongest ever' I take it?" Blues did jazz hands for emphasis.
"Yeah. But we all know that's fake." Bass admittedly looked a bit disheartened as he reassured himself. Blues made no move to comment on that.
"Sure thing. But even if he does, you're still the Bass-t," and Bass couldn't help but chortle at him, sliding in next to Blues on the edge of the bed. It creaked under his weight, making Blues slip closer to Bass. Their thighs rested against each other.
"…What is that even supposed to mean?" He pressed while leaning his head against Blues' shoulder, but he got little more than a shrug in reply. Not that he minded. He just wanted to hear more.
"You doing alright, though?" Blues turned to bury his face in Bass' ruffled hair. It hadn't been styled, as it was considerably soft and smelled of burnt copper.
"Yeah, it's whatever, not like it really matters," he slipped an arm around Blues, "doesn't mean I don't want you, though."
Blues let some silence settle between them. The faint whir of Bass' cooling systems groaned solitary, awaiting a response of some kind. For a moment, Blues focused in on the way Bass held him. Bass' hand tight against the metal frame of his body, securing them firmly together. He pondered upon the firmness of his hand, yet it's gentleness to ensure no harm comes to his body. He couldn't help but find it charming, to be held in such a manner.
"Then let's go. Just us. Unless… Wait, where's Treble?" Blues gestured to the room, finally noticing the absence of Bass' companion-from-creation. Bass rolled his head, heaving a sigh.
"He left for the evening. He wanted to get some chores done."
"…Alright," it always struck Blues as odd that Treble went out into town like everyone else. But he didn't want to ask such questions right now, "let's go, then."
Bass relinquished Blues from his grip, crawling over the bed towards the window. He sat on the windowsill, and held his arms out to Blues, who practically fell into Bass' embrace. Their arms entangled together, Bass let himself slide out the window. They fell down into the city below, with Bass shouting gleefully, and Blues letting out a muffled shout from the crook of Bass' neck. Every time, Blues worried if Bass will miss the landing, but without fail, he falls directly onto his feet where his shock absorbers leave Blues with only a little wind knocked out of him.
When Bass went to put Blues down, he caught a glimpse of Bass' face.. He had a cocky grin on, which Blues rewarded with a coy smile. Before a word could be spoken, Blues grabbed Bass by the arm, and pulled him out into the streets.
They emerged from an alleyway, and ran down a not-so-popular avenue together. While many places had closed for the night, various locations had opened up after dark. Clubs exclusive to robots lined the basements of once-abandoned properties. The lights of convenience stores reflected from the puddles that Bass trampled with each step.
Bass gave a long look to one of the stores as they passed by, of which Blues caught onto, "what's the matter?"
"I haven't eaten in a while. Too busy arguing with people," Bass admitted, "but it's fine."
Blues bit his lip and let go of Bass' arm, "hey, come here. I think I got an idea."
Blues turned and ran off, taking only a moment to glance back behind him. Bass huffed, holding back a complaint as he ran after Blues.
Down the street, the two of them dodged between groups of people blocking the sidewalk. Blues slid underneath ladders and weaved through small groups expertly, whispering the occasional apology as he broke apart a conversation or two. Bass, in quick pursuit, jumped into the air. He bounded across rough patches of concrete, and stepped into the street when it was necessary to catch up. He could hear the light laugh of Blues in front of him, chasing it's enchanting timbre blindly.
Blues had run ahead, but not by much. He kept close so that Bass did not lose him. His destination was not far, however. Only a block further, and he stopped in front of a robot supply shop that was currently wrapping up for the day.
"Blues, wait up!" Bass groaned, coming out on the other end panting with his hands on his knees.
Blues grinned at Bass, resting his hands up behind his head.
"Man, I really thought you were more in shape than this."
"Hey!" Bass shouted, yet silenced by a smirking Blues, "hey now. Blues. Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Make me chase you like that! I almost ran into a bunch of girls!"
Blues hummed, crossing his arms, "you would hate that, wouldn't you."
"Shut up!" Bass threw up his hands, "but, you were trying to show me something?"
"Yeah," Blues pointed his thumb at the store they were standing in front of, his other arm akimbo. Bass looked inside.
"What about it?"
"This store throws out a ton of good stuff. You'd think they'd keep perfectly fine stock, but they might be a front with how much they throw out."
"…So we're gonna…"
Blues nodded slowly, his smirk widening. It was an infectious smile, as Bass couldn't help but smirk back. A nod of approval, and the two of them slipped away towards the back of the building, finding a large dumpster, half-full with various boxes and refuse from the store. Bass tried to stand on the tips of his feet to see into the bottom of the dumpster, but he couldn't quite get a good look. Blues, on the other hand, silently leapt in. He couldn't see over the edge at all, unlike Bass.
"There should be something good in here…" Blues muttered, digging through the boxes. Bass decided he might as well follow suit, and hoisted himself into the dumpster, doing his best as to not make much sound either. Unfortunately, his foot rammed up against the side of the dumpster, creating a loud banging noise. Blues winced, and shot Bass a look by turning his glasses down to look at him through locks of hair. Bass wheezed out a silent apology, but Blues simply returned to rummaging around.
Bass decided to start looking on the other end of the dumpster. There were various products that were irrelevant to him. Rounds of slightly shredded solder, some bolts which had damaged packaging. There was even a super-fancy multimeter, but Bass was too pissed off at Wily to bring it back to him.
"Aha! Found them."
Bass turned his head, looking over his shoulder. Blues turned around and held up two E-Tanks. They were severely dented, but still freshly contained their goods.
"Oh that's awesome!" Bass exclaimed, "you really know a lot of good places, Blues."
"Don't I?" He bragged, pretending to toss his hair. Bass couldn't help but let out a chuckle as he did.
Something hit the side of the dumpster.
The two froze, their expressions being wiped off their faces. Both looked at each other, then looked up, cautious with how they move so as to not make unnecessary sound. Blues silently put the E-Tanks in a small satchel he keeps with him.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing here, punks!?"
"Shit," Blues hissed. Bass, on the other hand, had a mischievous grin on his face. He knew that expression well, "what do we do?"
"I'll show you what we're gonna do. Just watch, Blues."
"Bastards, you must be the reason we keep hearing noises in the trash! That's it, I'm gonna call the police!"
"Yeah, well call the cops on this!" Bass vaulted over the rim of the dumpster and landed on top the human man who was yelling. He grunted in pain, and rolled away after Bass hopped off of him.
"Catch us if you can!" Bass teased, but the man didn't get up, as he was too busy curling into a ball.
"Bass!" Blues swiftly followed, but made sure to land next to the man instead of on top. For a moment he stood still, looking at the man with an odd expression. He was muttering obscenities, and clutched his leg painfully. Blues wondered if his leg was broken. He certainly seemed hurt.
"Come on!" Bass shouted, grabbing Blues' hand and pulling him out of the alley, "we gotta get out of here!"
As he was being taken away by Bass, the man managed to get up, using the side of the building to do so. Blues thought, bitterly, that he was probably fine. Accepting that as the truth, he let himself get practically dragged away. As they began to run, Blues' expression was laced in fear. Seeing the man like that rather upset him. Bass did not notice the way Blues frowned in his direction. He was too busy having fun with the getaway.
It was not immediate, but once the man was far out of sight, the feelings gradually faded away. Together, they both ran, Bass up front and Blues in tow. With their hands connecting each other, Bass couldn't help but burst into laughter. In reply, he also gave a laugh, though quite a bit smaller than the other. Through bites of snickers and huffs, Blues could hear his name being spoken repeatedly.
It tired him out, but eventually Blues was brought to the far outskirts of the city. There, a river flowed with cargo ships and a sea port lighting the horizon. The sounds of machinery echoed in the abandoned brutalist structures which they finally chose to sit down at. Not even the city rats would wander in this place. There was no food for organic things to eat in these concrete wastelands. Yet still, Blues found an unnatural beauty in the place. The city lights glistened like stars in a place where the light drowned the real ones out completely.
Admiring the view was somewhat difficult, whether that be the city or Bass, as his chest ached quite a bit. He was used to running about the city streets, but running at such a fast pace and for so long as they did, he knew this was bound to happen. It would go away with time, but for now he simply bit his lip meditatively.
"You good there? I didn't run you out, did I?" Bass queried. Blues knew well that Bass was genuinely checking up on him. But the way he worded it was also practically a query, asking Blues if he was still weaker than Bass. He never knew how to reply to such questions.
"Just a little bit."
"Well, we're staying here for at least a few hours anyways. Just sit right there." Bass huffed, giving him a coy smirk.
With a thud, Bass came to sit down next to Blues. Bass held out a hand in front of him, of which Blues took out the E-Tanks from him satchel, and gave one to Bass. Without a word, Bass took it and popped the can open. With a long sip, his breath slipped a content sigh. Much slower than Bass had, Blues followed suit with his own. As he drank, the E-Tank soothed his throat and eased the burning in his stomach. Not a cure-all, but it did take the edge off at least.
"So." Blues started after some time. Bass gave him a short glance before looking into the horizon again. He took that as a sign to continue, "you've been fighting with Wily a lot more than usual."
Bass groans, throwing his hands up, "yeah, and what of it?"
"Well that isn't just coming from nowhere. What's he even doing to drive you this nuts?"
"He isn't doing anything but being a lousy fool."
"Bass."
He fell silent, his eyes dropping away from Blues. His brows furrowed as a shadow was cast on his face. Blues' head tilted in his direction. For a few minutes, it felt as if Bass would never answer. But just as Blues went to open his mouth, Bass continued with generous usage of air quotes, "the old man is upset with me. He says I'm not up to standard and that my recent performance is down from what it used to be."
Blues hummed, contemplative in his motions. He had been noticing Bass acting rather off in recent time. He seemed to be somewhat forgetful about things, for some inexplicable reason. He himself was somewhat used to days or months like that, where his body simply can't function the way it should be. Blues was used to that by now.
But Bass…
"…Everyone has their bad months. Even you, Bass."
Bass glared at the ground, "…I can't have bad months, Blues. Not me."
"Yet you are. It'll change, you'll be fine."
Bass put down his can.
"Blues, I don't think you understand. If I'm underperforming, you know what that means? It means I am weaker than he expected me to be," Bass waved his arms in grand gestures, "it means that I'm not enough. Not to him. Not to me."
"You want that so badly because it's in your code. But you and I both know you're more than just the weights he put in your head to make you want this."
Blues lightly punched Bass' shoulder to lighten the mood, but that only agitated Bass. His gaze tightened on the ground.
"Hey. I want to be stronger. Stronger than everyone, stronger than anything. You and I both know that. I want it. I don't care what he wants. This is what I want."
"…But you still get into fights with—"
Bass hollered out into the empty lots, grabbing his head and shaking it back and forth, "this is exactly why I can't talk to anyone about this!"
He hopped up, and Blues watched closely. Back and forth he paced, his hands gripped into fists.
"This is what I was made for. This is what I'm meant to do. I want to be stronger, but here I am, Wily saying he's disappointed in me 'cause apparently I'm a failure, when, if there's something wrong with me, it's all his fault anyways!
Bass' hand collapsed into a buster, and he repeatedly shot at a garbage pile. Once, twice, three times, four. He blasted until the whole pile was nothing but tar and soot. Blues straightened his back, looking back and forth from Bass to the former garbage pile and back again. Once Bass was done annihilating the garbage off the face of the earth, he spoke again.
"…I get it, Bass. I mean. Outside of being a test to know if it was possible to make… Something like me… There wasn't much there for a life purpose."
With a frustrated growl, Bass sat back down next to Blues with another thud, his eyes dull and tired. He picks back up his can and takes another hearty sip before saying, "that's the thing, though. You never had a purpose to begin with, so you can just say things like that. I did. I do. And now I'm being told I'm failing at the only thing I really exist for."
"…I mean, at least you don't have the whole, human, thing," Blues reassured, "back at the dumpster, even though the guy wanted to call the cops on us, I really wanted to help him. If you hadn't dragged me off, I would have probably gotten arrested or something."
"Well I can't just let some thugs rip you away from me," Bass puffed out his chest. Blues chortled.
Bass wrapped an arm around Blues and pulled him closer. While a flush fell upon his cheeks, a nervousness swelled inside of him. Bass was still visibly pissed.
"But I'm serious. You at least have… Freedom. You can defend yourself no matter who the person is. I can't do that."
"I know you can't, Blues. Not for yourself, anyways."
"…You should also stop hurting random humans just because you can."
Bass scoffed at Blues as if it was a joke, but Blues held a serious tone.
"Hey, I didn't run into that group of girls. I'm not always a dick."
"You know what I mean."
Bass looked quite troubled.
"…Bluesy."
"Yeah?"
"I will be stronger. In fact, I already am. I've just been having bad luck." His gaze seared through Blues' shades like beaming light from a full moon. Blues couldn't help but stare back.
"And one day you'll see just how strong I am. And you'll never forget that day, you got it?"
Blues hummed in agreement with a bittersweet grin.
Oh, Bass. We're doomed.