Fic: "Making Memoriess" 1/1 ¤Bass, Zero (the Wily BROS! \0/) ¤ PG¤ General. Family.
Title: Making Memories.
Author: Nemesi.
Fandom: Rockman Classic Saga (MM)
Genre: General. Family?
Word Count: 604.
Characters: Bass, Zero.
Rating: PG.
Disclaimer: Rockman, its characters, places and themes belong to Capcom, Shogakukan, ShoPro, TV Tokio, etc. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: One upon a time, I wondered what’d happen if Zero and X were to be activated for a test-period back during 200X, when the Wilywars still raged on. My ponderings resulted into what I call my crack!verse: an handful of vignettes, plots, theories and what-not, in which Zero, X and their siblings interacted in humorous and amusing ways, pulling a laugh or two out of the readers.
The following vignette is part of the crack!verse; but the scar mentioned is a canon thing. Zero really has this symbol engraved on his shoulder. :)
Warnings: Unbeated.
Summary: Ever wondered how exactly Zero got that scar on his shoulder? That scar he wears on his body, but that’s also engraved on the shoulder-piece of his every standard armour?
* * * * *
Bass prodded the hideous wound, eyes flickering up when the other Wilybot hissed in pain at the touch.
“Doc’s gonna kick your arse ‘till you kiss the moon, Girlybot,” Bass informed, not quite kindly. If anything, the demented light in his eyes hinted that he wouldn’t have minded a first-row seat for the show.
Zero tossed an answering grunt his way. Amused, Bass looked back at the mess of oozing oil and charred metal that was Zero’s left shoulder, and went back to prodding it with the tip of his finger.
The edges of the cuts were surprisingly smooth, he noticed. The lines precise as brush-strokes, starting and ending whisper-thin and widening in the middle. The intricate circuitries hidden underneath the synthetic skin covering were clearly visible; not much damaged, but crackling and dancing with tiny sparks.
“Till the moon an’ back,” he rectified, with relish. He really wanted a ticked for the show, now.
Zero grunted again, unworried.
“…he wouldn’t do that, would he?”
“’f course he would,” Bass answered, matter-of-factly. “For damagin’ his precious property an’ all.”
Turning, he rummaged through a nearby toolbox. He produced a small flashlight, which he shone in Zero’s face before flinging it away. Next came an handful of tungsten carbide burrs which Bass looked much too tempted to use on his unsuspecting sibling, but that were ultimately put aside. A drill, an impact wrench, a soldering gun and a Pozidriv screwdriver later, Bass emerged with his prize: a section of kitchen paper that had got in there who-knows-how, and a spray bottle. Zero eyed him carefully.
“He’d damage me as a punishment for damaging myself?” Zero looked doubtful, though not that much. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Bass shrugged. Dabbed the wound clean with a squirt of spray and much too forceful rubbing, which Zero endured stoically.
“That’s Doc for ya. A total nutcase,” he grinned, showing fangs.
Very carefully he inserted a long-handled tong inside the wound, and began to pick out the residue of burnt metal and silicon. Once he was satisfied, he put aside the tong, and reached for a gun-shaped tool. He inserted the tip in the wider gash, and coated the wound with gel from bottom up.
When the thing had congealed properly, only a deep but smooth-to-the-touch scar would be left behind. Definitely a flashy addiction, but that’s what Zero had wanted, hadn’t it?
“Speakin’ of nutcases. What madness possessed you to do this?”
Zero had the decency to blush, another of those schematics improvements that Bass might have envied him… hadn’t it be so damn impractical.
“Uhm, well, Dr. Light is turning X off very soon for those reliability tests…”
“And?”
“And Dr. Wily will turn me off in a little while as well, you know; for that Metamorphic Virus thing…”
“…and?”
“And, err, uhm…” Zero touched his shoulder, gingerly, admiring his brother's (and his own) handiwork. The scar seemed to glow under the harsh light of the single fluorescent tube of the room; a piece of art in and for itself.
“…our CPUs will probably be formatted, and the memories of this test activation will be wiped clean. I needed something to make sure I’d remember X when I saw him again, and so…” he caressed the scar with a single finger, gently, as gently as you’d touch something precious and fragile, like a child or a flower, or something holy, like a relic.
Bass sneered again, but there was an odd respect mixed with the crackling loathing in his voice.
“So you decided to carve X and your initials entwined on your very flesh? Smooth Girlybot. Real smooth.”
~*~おわり~*~