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i have amnesia and it's fucking bullshit
He's not totally sure why he's here.
His memory doesn't go very far back, and what's there is patchy, a low-resolution blur that opens on a bang. He'd been forcibly ejected out of whatever hardware he'd been in and become terrifyingly unmoored, at risk of total dissolution without anything to ground him. He'd found some working hardware in the vast, bombed-out shell of electronic wreckage -- hardware that seems hauntingly familiar, and more importantly, hardware with legs. The blue-plated robot body is in bad shape, its damaged systems unable to consistently supply him with enough power to function, let alone spare the bandwidth for any kind of internal diagnostic. But at least it moves.
Jesus Christ, this fucking sucks.
He needs another robot body, or at least a power source capable of stabilizing this one. Not gonna fuckin find one of those anywhere around here, so he accesses the body's location history and finds the nearest location with the most time spent in it, a remote outpost by a waterfall. If nothing else, maybe there's a working comm tower he can use to contact...whoever he'd contact if he could remember a single goddamn thing.
He can't rely on his internal clock, and the robot body's prone to shutting down without warning when he pushes too hard, so he doesn't have a good idea of how long it takes him to get there. All he knows is that his body shits out on him as soon as he gets there, and the next thing he knows some freak in blue armor is yelling at top volume about best friends and dead best friends and best friends who are no longer dead and honestly, he doesn't understand most of what comes out of that guy's mouth so the fact that the robot body goes offline pretty shortly after is a small mercy.
Annoyingly, Caboose -- which sounds more like a mean nickname than a real person's name, but okay -- is still there when he comes to again, insists they're friends and that he can help. That he can take them to a power source that'll be able to help Church -- this guy keeps calling him Church, and it feels vaguely familiar and not inherently derogatory so he'll take it for now. So Caboose loads his malfunctioning robot body into a jeep with a couple of freaks in red armor to go on what has to be the world's shittiest road trip. Supposedly he knows all of these people, but he hopes to God that's not the case because he thinks he'd have to kill himself if it were.
It's a fucking disaster. These assholes have shit taste in music, the orange one drives him through a fucking minefield, and then they get into a chaotic firefight in the desert before he even knows what's happening. He's just lucky this body doesn't short out on him during the mad dash to follow this guy in aqua armor and get inside the temple. By some fucking miracle they all make it in more or less one piece, and with a huge fuck-off door now between them and the assholes chasing them with guns, Church feels marginally safer.
His memory doesn't go very far back, and what's there is patchy, a low-resolution blur that opens on a bang. He'd been forcibly ejected out of whatever hardware he'd been in and become terrifyingly unmoored, at risk of total dissolution without anything to ground him. He'd found some working hardware in the vast, bombed-out shell of electronic wreckage -- hardware that seems hauntingly familiar, and more importantly, hardware with legs. The blue-plated robot body is in bad shape, its damaged systems unable to consistently supply him with enough power to function, let alone spare the bandwidth for any kind of internal diagnostic. But at least it moves.
Jesus Christ, this fucking sucks.
He needs another robot body, or at least a power source capable of stabilizing this one. Not gonna fuckin find one of those anywhere around here, so he accesses the body's location history and finds the nearest location with the most time spent in it, a remote outpost by a waterfall. If nothing else, maybe there's a working comm tower he can use to contact...whoever he'd contact if he could remember a single goddamn thing.
He can't rely on his internal clock, and the robot body's prone to shutting down without warning when he pushes too hard, so he doesn't have a good idea of how long it takes him to get there. All he knows is that his body shits out on him as soon as he gets there, and the next thing he knows some freak in blue armor is yelling at top volume about best friends and dead best friends and best friends who are no longer dead and honestly, he doesn't understand most of what comes out of that guy's mouth so the fact that the robot body goes offline pretty shortly after is a small mercy.
Annoyingly, Caboose -- which sounds more like a mean nickname than a real person's name, but okay -- is still there when he comes to again, insists they're friends and that he can help. That he can take them to a power source that'll be able to help Church -- this guy keeps calling him Church, and it feels vaguely familiar and not inherently derogatory so he'll take it for now. So Caboose loads his malfunctioning robot body into a jeep with a couple of freaks in red armor to go on what has to be the world's shittiest road trip. Supposedly he knows all of these people, but he hopes to God that's not the case because he thinks he'd have to kill himself if it were.
It's a fucking disaster. These assholes have shit taste in music, the orange one drives him through a fucking minefield, and then they get into a chaotic firefight in the desert before he even knows what's happening. He's just lucky this body doesn't short out on him during the mad dash to follow this guy in aqua armor and get inside the temple. By some fucking miracle they all make it in more or less one piece, and with a huge fuck-off door now between them and the assholes chasing them with guns, Church feels marginally safer.
I was thinking "Asshole"
He had seen Church possess people. If the body was terrible and obviously a piece of shit, why call it home? He could just hang out in one of them until they came across a new one, whenever that miracle happened. Unless…
“Does that one have a big dick or something?”
That was the only thing that made sense to him.
Lashing the rope over his shoulder, he started to trudge through the sand. Ugggh, were they going to talk about things? Did they have to? After months alone and barely sleeping, the idea of digging into this sounded like a literal Hell worse than Grif’s armor after Taco Tuesday. Fuck. He gripped the rope a little tighter.
“It doesn’t matter since you don’t remember, right?” It sounded bitchier than he intende- actually no. That was the right amount of bitchiness. “So why do you care?”
oh of course...... wait what does the I stand for
It doesn't seem to have occurred to him yet that he could jump into the AI slot in someone's armor. Maybe that has something to do with the fact that until this moment, Caboose was his only option. Although the hostility he's getting from Tucker isn't exactly inviting.
"Uh...because you literally have me tied up and you're obviously pissed about something, and I guess we're on the same team?"
It's not as though he's uninterested in remembering shit about himself. He'd love to know what the fuck is going on with his...everything, and Tucker obviously knows him well enough to have beef with him on what feels like a purely personal level. Let's really dig into that angle, shall we.
Idiot
“Never stopped you before.”
But Church probably didn’t remember it, huh? If Tucker was a more empathic person, maybe – just maybe – he might have been a little kinder about it, wondered how it must have felt to know literally nothing and have all your information channeled through Caboose. But he wasn’t. He was bitter and stubborn and
hurt hurt hurtabandoned out here while Church was off kil-“Blue armor kinda gives it away.” He didn’t want to talk about his stupid fucking feelings. If he waited or if he could find enough beer, he could just drink them away and it’d be fine. FINE. That’s what they did, right? Bury shit and just moved on.
“Look, it doesn’t matter why I’m pissed, okay? You don’t know me so why do you care?”