Silent Pleas
Fandom: Ratchet & Clank
Rating: K+ Nothing violent or offensive, minor bouts of depression
Warnings: None.
Summary: For story purposes, we go inside the mind of my Lombax OC, Ziggy, during one of his many nights alone contemplating certain things that he usually thinks about. No official characters are in this snippet. This is merely an experiment.
Somewhere in the mysterious Lombax Dimension it was nighttime, a vast world that so few had entered and exited, a place of solitude and silence to all other dimensions outside of it. A beautiful world it was, and yet so quiet. So blank in the minds of many of those who inhabited the place. Even the most audacious person felt a twinge of melancholy with the residents of the dimension. This night, one of those particular audacious people now sat in their labratory, alone, tapping their finger mutely on a table. The labratory would have been near pitch-black if it weren’t for the many glowing lights emitting various mechanical devices and contraptions. A wonderful cyan color illuminated the room enough to make it look as if it were underwater, shining on the metal walls and floor as if reflecting off of a liquid surface.
Faint beeping sounds were heard every once and a while as the many computers around the room flicked on and off, automatic programming enabling them to sort out information and store it without the need of an actual guide. Aside from the occasional minor noises that came from behind the scientist at his desk, it was fairly quiet this night. A little too quiet, if the Lombax observed too well with his ears. Papers and writing utensils were scattered about the the table, some of them crumpled up and tossed across the tabletop, some that missed the garbage basket and laid tackily on the floor. This was a difficult night, if not for his mental state, more or less trying to come up with something to create. To put his mind to work. To be productive. Sitting idly day after day was boring and would undoubtedly drive him even madder than he already was.
The Lombax let out a heavy sigh through his nose, feeling the cold air rush into his lungs as he breathed. It was a cold night. His light fur nearly stood on end, even if his old lab coat kept his arms warm, that didn’t help his ears or his tail. Glancing slowly at the digital clock on his desk, his deathly pale blue eyes narrowed at the time as he twisted the edge of his lips in dissatisfaction. It was after midnight, and yet he was still awake...even if that was a completely natural thing for himself, it was not normal for him to be this still, this quiet and unproductive.
He blinked once or twice, realizing that sleep was nearly ready to claim his eyes. Again, he twisted his lips in disappointment. He didn’t want to sleep yet. He felt as if he needed to create something, if not draw out schematics so he may go over them in the morning. He blinked again and grunted, realizing that the cold air was getting to him, causing him to be drowsy.
It was too quiet. Too cold. Too desolate. He was used to being alone, but this was getting ridiculous.
He picked up a nearby pen and tapped the tip onto a blank sheet of paper, waiting on anything at all to pop into his head, to give him inspiration.
This is bloody ridiculous.
That thought alone was an understatement. This was unnatural for him; usually his mind was literally flooding with ideas, with thoughts and wonders, and yet tonight his mind was as blank as the sheet of paper in front of him. His hand twitched faintly, and for a split second he thought he had had something come to him, though it dissipated quickly, rendering him still once more and, again, disappointed.
Becoming sleepier than he imagined, his mind trailed off into areas that were in no way related to technical work, into areas that he wanted to stay out of forever. His thoughts were constantly at work, but this time it was as if his thoughts alone were trying to offer him comfort in the most morbid way possible. This often happened when he had nothing to do, when he actually became bored, which is something he didn’t like.
His hand trailed somewhat unconsciously across the sheet of paper, sketching out Lombax letters as if he were a printer, except at a much slower pace. His fingers gripped the pen as he wrote, the word or name coming along smoothly and quietly. Circular and square-like shapes were soon formed across the paper in large, black symbols as he colored the outlines in to better form the letters in the Lombax language. He knew what he was writing, and even when he told his mind to stop, he just couldn’t seem to. It was how he got ideas out of his head, it was how he worked.
Finally coming to a stop, he flicked the pen across the table irritatedly as it rolled off and clacked to the floor. His eyes came back into focus and read the name over and over again until it sunk into his mind like cement pouring into a crevice and hardening in place. It was something he could never forget no matter how much he tried, and something that was a complete burden on nights like this.
Amanda.
The very name that pierced his thoughts and sent a violent shudder down his spine and shoulders, almost as if the remembered nightmarish screams caused his entire body to rack with tremors. A sharp breath exhaled him as if he were trying to catch it, as his rough tan eyebrows twisted upwards at seeing the name.
His beautiful wife. The one who had supported him through thick and thin, through his stubbornness and determination, she was his rock and backbone. Except for now. Now, he was alone in this pitiful dimension, alone with his thoughts on things that had long passed. Alone to rot, and be driven even madder by the minute.
Even at the thought, a faint grin began to form. The very reason his mental state was as it is, why he constantly strived to keep his mind at work to prevent things like this. It was why he’d lost whatever shred of sanity he had left years ago. Thinking too much drove him to sessions like this. Made him twitchy and vulnerable. He didn’t like being vulnerable.
Amanda, say my name again...
It would never happen. No matter how many times he wished for it. She was his life. She carried life in her, until that one day on Fastoon--
“Ziggy?”
His thoughts shattered.
For someone who was rendered so decrepit to surprises, he certainly forgot that sense at the sudden call of his name to actually make him jump slightly. The groggy voice that called for him was smooth and sweet, knowing the voice anywhere, he already knew who it was.
He didn’t even have to turn his head to look, as the female Lombax carefully stepped inside his lab in her pajamas, staring at his back curiously. The faint pattering of her feet across the floor as she approached him slowly was heard, though he remained still as a statue.
“What are you doing?” She asked. “Usually you’re either asleep or constructing something.” An unintentionally torturing sentence for a tortured man. “Is something wrong?”
He stayed silent for the most part, wondering how to answer that question. Quickly taking the sheet of paper he wrote on and crumpled it up to toss it across the room, he reached up and pulled his goggles over his eyes; a natural gesture whenever someone came around him. He refused to show his eyes more than necessary. They were hideous--well, according to him.
He adjusted the goggles before turning around and trying to give the woman a reassuring look. “I’m alright, Revecka.” Complete and utter bullcrap. He thought. “Is my lack in productivity really that noticeable? My, my, I’d say I need more coffee then.”
Revecka looked at the older Lombax uncertainly, hugging herself from the cold. “I just thought I would come and check on you. I didn’t disturb you, did I?”
He shook his head and waved a hand, standing up as the metal seat creaked and moaned when he lifted himself up. “No, no, no. I wasn’t really busy. Tonight is not my night for some reason.” The irritation was evident in his voice.
The tan female Lombax tilted her head at him, her light brown hair swaying with the motion as it dangled gracefully over her shoulders like it always did. “Well, do you need some help before you sleep?” She asked with slight eagerness.
Ziggy gave a small smile to the girl and cocked his head to the side as he took his hand and cupped it around her cheek, patting it affectionately. “No, I think I’m done for the night. I can’t seem to come up with anything. I fear I may have created nearly everything that is possible to create.” He replied with a tad bit of humor.
Revecka returned the smile a little before she glanced at his gloved hand incredulously, taking it in her own and rubbing her palms together as if to keep his warm. “Good grief, Ziggy, you’re practically freezing! Why haven’t you turned the heat on or something?”
This was part of his somewhat dark humor; the cold went well with his icy eyes and his darker half of his own personality. He was used to the cold, even if it got on his nerves sometimes. Thus, he couldn’t really come up with an answer for her exclamation. He just enjoyed having his hands touch hers, which were far warmer than his own, even if he had thick leather gloves on.
“Come on, you need to get to bed before you catch pneumonia.” She urged him to follow her as she tugged on his hand, making her way towards the door.
He wanted to object, though once the strict freezing wind whipped across his face, he quickly disregarded that option. Maybe it was time to rest. As Revecka gently tugged on his outstretched hand, the cuff of his lab coat stretched upwards to reveal his left wrist, which had a necklace wrapped tightly around it and a locket charm in the shape of a heart. The locket that his wife wore, the silver still shining even after the destruction it went through. Ziggy paused and stared at it for a moment as if to collect his thoughts before he moved again, which brought Revecka to a halt.
She caught his gaze as her own eyes trailed down to the pendant on his wrist. Her expression softened as she pieced together one reason why he might not be having the best night, as she turned her head up and looked at him with sympathy as she clutched his gloved hand, causing him to turn his attention over to her. She couldn’t see his eyes, but the way his eyebrows motioned gave her the impression that he was confused.
“You’re...thinking about her, aren’t you?” She asked quietly, hesitant in asking him the question so she did it slowly.
Then his brows furrowed in a way that made him look angry, but she knew him better than that. He was never angry. Trying to understand what expression he was giving off, she saw his mouth move that looked like he was chewing the inside of his cheek. Was he thinking of an answer? Was he even going to answer her? She wish she knew, but she was also aware that his mind was like clockwork; he was very unpredictable at times and, even for someone like her who was so used to his behavior by now, she knew he would always catch her off guard and surprise her. In a good way, of course. The man was practically a genius, despite the fact that he was insane.
He let out a chuckle, which sounded more like a scoff, and lifted his free hand up to adjust his goggles. “Strange how even my own mind surprises me.” His trademark grin came into place, which gave the girl a tiny bit of relief.
“So you’re alright, then?” She asked.
He tilted his head. “Now, my dear, you know I’m never alright.” He smiled wryly at her, and this decreased her relief in him feeling better as her own smile faded at his words. He then shrugged and waved. “But I suppose I do need rest. I’m not creating anything so I see no point in wasting the rest of the night away.”
Glad that he finally made up his mind, Revecka smiled warmly at him as she began to lead him out of the lab again; the cyan hues shining against her face and making her seem intruiging to the mad scientist. And that smile of hers...it was too unique, too rare, and indeed a good thing to see in this dull world he was stuck in. Even while he was happy and jumpy most of the time, seeing her brightened his day all the more.
“Good, I’ll lock the lab down for you. You go on ahead.” She said and nodded to him while he returned the gesture.
Stuffing his hands in his pockets he turned around to look at the female once more, the two holding a gaze for a few moments before he smiled at her. “Goodnight, Revecka.”
She watched him walk across the street under the moonlight and waved smally to his back. “Goodnight, doctor.”
Rating: K+ Nothing violent or offensive, minor bouts of depression
Warnings: None.
Summary: For story purposes, we go inside the mind of my Lombax OC, Ziggy, during one of his many nights alone contemplating certain things that he usually thinks about. No official characters are in this snippet. This is merely an experiment.
Somewhere in the mysterious Lombax Dimension it was nighttime, a vast world that so few had entered and exited, a place of solitude and silence to all other dimensions outside of it. A beautiful world it was, and yet so quiet. So blank in the minds of many of those who inhabited the place. Even the most audacious person felt a twinge of melancholy with the residents of the dimension. This night, one of those particular audacious people now sat in their labratory, alone, tapping their finger mutely on a table. The labratory would have been near pitch-black if it weren’t for the many glowing lights emitting various mechanical devices and contraptions. A wonderful cyan color illuminated the room enough to make it look as if it were underwater, shining on the metal walls and floor as if reflecting off of a liquid surface.
Faint beeping sounds were heard every once and a while as the many computers around the room flicked on and off, automatic programming enabling them to sort out information and store it without the need of an actual guide. Aside from the occasional minor noises that came from behind the scientist at his desk, it was fairly quiet this night. A little too quiet, if the Lombax observed too well with his ears. Papers and writing utensils were scattered about the the table, some of them crumpled up and tossed across the tabletop, some that missed the garbage basket and laid tackily on the floor. This was a difficult night, if not for his mental state, more or less trying to come up with something to create. To put his mind to work. To be productive. Sitting idly day after day was boring and would undoubtedly drive him even madder than he already was.
The Lombax let out a heavy sigh through his nose, feeling the cold air rush into his lungs as he breathed. It was a cold night. His light fur nearly stood on end, even if his old lab coat kept his arms warm, that didn’t help his ears or his tail. Glancing slowly at the digital clock on his desk, his deathly pale blue eyes narrowed at the time as he twisted the edge of his lips in dissatisfaction. It was after midnight, and yet he was still awake...even if that was a completely natural thing for himself, it was not normal for him to be this still, this quiet and unproductive.
He blinked once or twice, realizing that sleep was nearly ready to claim his eyes. Again, he twisted his lips in disappointment. He didn’t want to sleep yet. He felt as if he needed to create something, if not draw out schematics so he may go over them in the morning. He blinked again and grunted, realizing that the cold air was getting to him, causing him to be drowsy.
It was too quiet. Too cold. Too desolate. He was used to being alone, but this was getting ridiculous.
He picked up a nearby pen and tapped the tip onto a blank sheet of paper, waiting on anything at all to pop into his head, to give him inspiration.
This is bloody ridiculous.
That thought alone was an understatement. This was unnatural for him; usually his mind was literally flooding with ideas, with thoughts and wonders, and yet tonight his mind was as blank as the sheet of paper in front of him. His hand twitched faintly, and for a split second he thought he had had something come to him, though it dissipated quickly, rendering him still once more and, again, disappointed.
Becoming sleepier than he imagined, his mind trailed off into areas that were in no way related to technical work, into areas that he wanted to stay out of forever. His thoughts were constantly at work, but this time it was as if his thoughts alone were trying to offer him comfort in the most morbid way possible. This often happened when he had nothing to do, when he actually became bored, which is something he didn’t like.
His hand trailed somewhat unconsciously across the sheet of paper, sketching out Lombax letters as if he were a printer, except at a much slower pace. His fingers gripped the pen as he wrote, the word or name coming along smoothly and quietly. Circular and square-like shapes were soon formed across the paper in large, black symbols as he colored the outlines in to better form the letters in the Lombax language. He knew what he was writing, and even when he told his mind to stop, he just couldn’t seem to. It was how he got ideas out of his head, it was how he worked.
Finally coming to a stop, he flicked the pen across the table irritatedly as it rolled off and clacked to the floor. His eyes came back into focus and read the name over and over again until it sunk into his mind like cement pouring into a crevice and hardening in place. It was something he could never forget no matter how much he tried, and something that was a complete burden on nights like this.
Amanda.
The very name that pierced his thoughts and sent a violent shudder down his spine and shoulders, almost as if the remembered nightmarish screams caused his entire body to rack with tremors. A sharp breath exhaled him as if he were trying to catch it, as his rough tan eyebrows twisted upwards at seeing the name.
His beautiful wife. The one who had supported him through thick and thin, through his stubbornness and determination, she was his rock and backbone. Except for now. Now, he was alone in this pitiful dimension, alone with his thoughts on things that had long passed. Alone to rot, and be driven even madder by the minute.
Even at the thought, a faint grin began to form. The very reason his mental state was as it is, why he constantly strived to keep his mind at work to prevent things like this. It was why he’d lost whatever shred of sanity he had left years ago. Thinking too much drove him to sessions like this. Made him twitchy and vulnerable. He didn’t like being vulnerable.
Amanda, say my name again...
It would never happen. No matter how many times he wished for it. She was his life. She carried life in her, until that one day on Fastoon--
“Ziggy?”
His thoughts shattered.
For someone who was rendered so decrepit to surprises, he certainly forgot that sense at the sudden call of his name to actually make him jump slightly. The groggy voice that called for him was smooth and sweet, knowing the voice anywhere, he already knew who it was.
He didn’t even have to turn his head to look, as the female Lombax carefully stepped inside his lab in her pajamas, staring at his back curiously. The faint pattering of her feet across the floor as she approached him slowly was heard, though he remained still as a statue.
“What are you doing?” She asked. “Usually you’re either asleep or constructing something.” An unintentionally torturing sentence for a tortured man. “Is something wrong?”
He stayed silent for the most part, wondering how to answer that question. Quickly taking the sheet of paper he wrote on and crumpled it up to toss it across the room, he reached up and pulled his goggles over his eyes; a natural gesture whenever someone came around him. He refused to show his eyes more than necessary. They were hideous--well, according to him.
He adjusted the goggles before turning around and trying to give the woman a reassuring look. “I’m alright, Revecka.” Complete and utter bullcrap. He thought. “Is my lack in productivity really that noticeable? My, my, I’d say I need more coffee then.”
Revecka looked at the older Lombax uncertainly, hugging herself from the cold. “I just thought I would come and check on you. I didn’t disturb you, did I?”
He shook his head and waved a hand, standing up as the metal seat creaked and moaned when he lifted himself up. “No, no, no. I wasn’t really busy. Tonight is not my night for some reason.” The irritation was evident in his voice.
The tan female Lombax tilted her head at him, her light brown hair swaying with the motion as it dangled gracefully over her shoulders like it always did. “Well, do you need some help before you sleep?” She asked with slight eagerness.
Ziggy gave a small smile to the girl and cocked his head to the side as he took his hand and cupped it around her cheek, patting it affectionately. “No, I think I’m done for the night. I can’t seem to come up with anything. I fear I may have created nearly everything that is possible to create.” He replied with a tad bit of humor.
Revecka returned the smile a little before she glanced at his gloved hand incredulously, taking it in her own and rubbing her palms together as if to keep his warm. “Good grief, Ziggy, you’re practically freezing! Why haven’t you turned the heat on or something?”
This was part of his somewhat dark humor; the cold went well with his icy eyes and his darker half of his own personality. He was used to the cold, even if it got on his nerves sometimes. Thus, he couldn’t really come up with an answer for her exclamation. He just enjoyed having his hands touch hers, which were far warmer than his own, even if he had thick leather gloves on.
“Come on, you need to get to bed before you catch pneumonia.” She urged him to follow her as she tugged on his hand, making her way towards the door.
He wanted to object, though once the strict freezing wind whipped across his face, he quickly disregarded that option. Maybe it was time to rest. As Revecka gently tugged on his outstretched hand, the cuff of his lab coat stretched upwards to reveal his left wrist, which had a necklace wrapped tightly around it and a locket charm in the shape of a heart. The locket that his wife wore, the silver still shining even after the destruction it went through. Ziggy paused and stared at it for a moment as if to collect his thoughts before he moved again, which brought Revecka to a halt.
She caught his gaze as her own eyes trailed down to the pendant on his wrist. Her expression softened as she pieced together one reason why he might not be having the best night, as she turned her head up and looked at him with sympathy as she clutched his gloved hand, causing him to turn his attention over to her. She couldn’t see his eyes, but the way his eyebrows motioned gave her the impression that he was confused.
“You’re...thinking about her, aren’t you?” She asked quietly, hesitant in asking him the question so she did it slowly.
Then his brows furrowed in a way that made him look angry, but she knew him better than that. He was never angry. Trying to understand what expression he was giving off, she saw his mouth move that looked like he was chewing the inside of his cheek. Was he thinking of an answer? Was he even going to answer her? She wish she knew, but she was also aware that his mind was like clockwork; he was very unpredictable at times and, even for someone like her who was so used to his behavior by now, she knew he would always catch her off guard and surprise her. In a good way, of course. The man was practically a genius, despite the fact that he was insane.
He let out a chuckle, which sounded more like a scoff, and lifted his free hand up to adjust his goggles. “Strange how even my own mind surprises me.” His trademark grin came into place, which gave the girl a tiny bit of relief.
“So you’re alright, then?” She asked.
He tilted his head. “Now, my dear, you know I’m never alright.” He smiled wryly at her, and this decreased her relief in him feeling better as her own smile faded at his words. He then shrugged and waved. “But I suppose I do need rest. I’m not creating anything so I see no point in wasting the rest of the night away.”
Glad that he finally made up his mind, Revecka smiled warmly at him as she began to lead him out of the lab again; the cyan hues shining against her face and making her seem intruiging to the mad scientist. And that smile of hers...it was too unique, too rare, and indeed a good thing to see in this dull world he was stuck in. Even while he was happy and jumpy most of the time, seeing her brightened his day all the more.
“Good, I’ll lock the lab down for you. You go on ahead.” She said and nodded to him while he returned the gesture.
Stuffing his hands in his pockets he turned around to look at the female once more, the two holding a gaze for a few moments before he smiled at her. “Goodnight, Revecka.”
She watched him walk across the street under the moonlight and waved smally to his back. “Goodnight, doctor.”