I don't know where this came from, honest.
Title: Why'd you cut holes in the face of the moon base?
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Title and Cut-text from Of Moons, Birds & Monsters by MGMT.
1825114-ROSS was a lonely robot.
Up on his big grey moon, with no other life forms for billions and billions of miles. He had the stars to twinkle him to sleep, the sun to warm his circuits (if he stayed on the right side-it’s very easy for 1825114 to get distracted at times), and many, many fascinating rocks to collect, but every now and then he wishes that he could just have someone, anyone, to talk to.
Out of his many, many rocks -7635, to be exact, all lined up and categorized in a very special way- 1825114 had three absolute favourites. The very first rock he had ever found was a very pretty shade of blue -it reminded him of the planet floating away off to the side of his moon, another was a tiny black rock that shone brightly even in the shadows, almost as though it was secretly grinning at him, the last was a chocolate rock with swirls of a lighter brown all over, and always seemed to be warm to the touch. 1825114 kept these three rocks very carefully away from all of the others, as he did not want to misplace them, they were his only friends among his land of dust and grey.
1825114 was almost, nearly positive that his scientists hadn’t meant to leave him up there all on his lonesome. Well, at least he hoped they hadn’t. He had tried to be a good robot, he was a bit gangly as his limbs were made for reaching, not, particularly, control, and he hadn’t meant to knock over so many coffee cups or folders, he had tried to be good. He would wear jaunty little hats and scarves to bring smiles to his scientists’ faces, use his superior knowledge of over 6000 dialects to assist them with papers and translations, and was always very quiet when need be.
He had loved his scientists and they had loved him, surely, they would not have just left him...would they?
1825114 spent his days gathering rocks and placing them into their special columns and rows, recalling the names of the different stars and constellations, and watching over the pretty blue planet telling his three favourites stories of waves and wind and green.
The air had felt so different with the extra salt content, just as it felt different now that it was gone, 1825114 hadn’t liked how close the waves had gotten to his circuits when he was taken out to the shore, but he had liked it more than the dark out on the moon. He made sure to tell his rocks to be careful not to get too close to the waves as there are many other pretty rocks in the water and he would hate to lose them. He told them of watching his scientists be blown about, laughing at each other when they were unable to stay on their feet among the breeze, fragile things his scientists were, unable to stand in a bout of air, but not to worry rocks, 1825114 would never let the wind carry them away. He misses the colour most of all. The green of grass, the rainbow of flowers, the oranges reds and browns of leaves, his moon is so devoid of colour, 1825114 wishes that he had been able to keep one of his scarves to brighten it up a little.
1825114-ROSS was a lonely robot, up on his moon of dust and grey. His three very best friends were rocks, and he passed his time telling stories and wishing upon stars. Perhaps if he kept his eyes on the stars, kept wishing and hoping, someone would come to his lonely moon and see what a good robot he really was, they would take him in their rocket and return him to his scientists and his scarves. He would have a place to put his three rocks and have many things to tell his scientists, he would go to the water and look at the leaves, he would keep helping with papers and keep his arms away from cups.
He would be such a good robot, if only they would have him back.
Note: Comments would be lovely
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Title and Cut-text from Of Moons, Birds & Monsters by MGMT.
1825114-ROSS was a lonely robot.
Up on his big grey moon, with no other life forms for billions and billions of miles. He had the stars to twinkle him to sleep, the sun to warm his circuits (if he stayed on the right side-it’s very easy for 1825114 to get distracted at times), and many, many fascinating rocks to collect, but every now and then he wishes that he could just have someone, anyone, to talk to.
Out of his many, many rocks -7635, to be exact, all lined up and categorized in a very special way- 1825114 had three absolute favourites. The very first rock he had ever found was a very pretty shade of blue -it reminded him of the planet floating away off to the side of his moon, another was a tiny black rock that shone brightly even in the shadows, almost as though it was secretly grinning at him, the last was a chocolate rock with swirls of a lighter brown all over, and always seemed to be warm to the touch. 1825114 kept these three rocks very carefully away from all of the others, as he did not want to misplace them, they were his only friends among his land of dust and grey.
1825114 was almost, nearly positive that his scientists hadn’t meant to leave him up there all on his lonesome. Well, at least he hoped they hadn’t. He had tried to be a good robot, he was a bit gangly as his limbs were made for reaching, not, particularly, control, and he hadn’t meant to knock over so many coffee cups or folders, he had tried to be good. He would wear jaunty little hats and scarves to bring smiles to his scientists’ faces, use his superior knowledge of over 6000 dialects to assist them with papers and translations, and was always very quiet when need be.
He had loved his scientists and they had loved him, surely, they would not have just left him...would they?
1825114 spent his days gathering rocks and placing them into their special columns and rows, recalling the names of the different stars and constellations, and watching over the pretty blue planet telling his three favourites stories of waves and wind and green.
The air had felt so different with the extra salt content, just as it felt different now that it was gone, 1825114 hadn’t liked how close the waves had gotten to his circuits when he was taken out to the shore, but he had liked it more than the dark out on the moon. He made sure to tell his rocks to be careful not to get too close to the waves as there are many other pretty rocks in the water and he would hate to lose them. He told them of watching his scientists be blown about, laughing at each other when they were unable to stay on their feet among the breeze, fragile things his scientists were, unable to stand in a bout of air, but not to worry rocks, 1825114 would never let the wind carry them away. He misses the colour most of all. The green of grass, the rainbow of flowers, the oranges reds and browns of leaves, his moon is so devoid of colour, 1825114 wishes that he had been able to keep one of his scarves to brighten it up a little.
1825114-ROSS was a lonely robot, up on his moon of dust and grey. His three very best friends were rocks, and he passed his time telling stories and wishing upon stars. Perhaps if he kept his eyes on the stars, kept wishing and hoping, someone would come to his lonely moon and see what a good robot he really was, they would take him in their rocket and return him to his scientists and his scarves. He would have a place to put his three rocks and have many things to tell his scientists, he would go to the water and look at the leaves, he would keep helping with papers and keep his arms away from cups.
He would be such a good robot, if only they would have him back.
Note: Comments would be lovely