Contest 1: Entry 3: Technicalities
Title: Technicalities
Ratings: K
Pairings: WALL-E/EVE
Warnings: Spoilers for the movie.
Useless.
The adjective runs through her hardware system tirelessly, while something indefinable trudges through, through…
It’s something far too illogical for her to truly grasp, but through yet another illogical concept she retains has the capacity to grasp it so firmly, she aches. Like the several things she has come to encounter since he made himself known to her, it’s a brand new sense. Like a portion of the things she had found to be irritating and well, useless, so does this particular sense. But this time, this sense is much more intensified, and it’s as if she’s breaking down merely at the sight of him. Because it’s not really him.
He holds a light bulb in one hand, the Rubik's cube in another, and he simply stares. Vacantly, which is something she would never describe him as. Even when she first met him, she could think all she wanted about him, but dull and vacant were never part of the description. However, now he could very well line up with a dozen other machines and be classified as yet another model. Programmed a certain way, he would act according to that programming, would follow it without question. A single directive would be his one and only calling.
It can’t be though. She fought, she literally fought to bring all those humans and those robots back to this place they deemed home--but not for them. No, as selfish as it may sound, it was actually the least selfish act she had ever committed because she acted for a purpose rather than a directive that she would normally pursue in order not to be destroyed.
Thus this cannot be where it ends, with WALL-E having no recollection of the last 700 years, of the past days in which he stood there just wanting to be near her. Now that they are in such close proximity, his mechanism cannot honestly be without memory--without personality.
But he places the Rubik's cube and the light bulb, along with a dozen other of his precious trinkets, inside his compact system and crushes them without the knowledge that it crushes a part of her too. He even runs over his pet cockroach, but just as her, the cockroach doesn’t give up, not yet, and both pursue him as he diligently heads towards the waste.
“WALL-E,” she calls.
The fact is, this new sense scares and fills her simultaneously. To hold hands, she comprehends it so well now--his innate craving to want to hold onto something. To have found that understanding, has brought something in her she knows for a fact not too many other robots have discovered. It has made her truly unique, but as he continues to ignore her, and just look her like that doesn’t make her feel so special.
She performs a last ditch effort, because logic is telling her that at least he’s not broken beyond repair, at least he’s, he’s…surviving. So she decides to do one last thing, to really bring him back, to have him live like the WALL-E she’s grown to know so well.
She clasps her hand with his, firmly, tightly so he can’t scurry off. She also grabs a hold of his line of sight, catches his eyes, and tries to exude yet something else she discovered. She searches for that spark that is so vitally him, but when she fails to find it, she tilts her head down, where they’re practically touching, and gives him a spark. Just hoping against hope that the blue spark will jolt him alive, but no. Still empty. She all but sighs, and begins pulling away.
Her hand remains in his however, and she pulls away gently, but his hand seems to give a firmer squeeze. Sighing, she turns back to him, momentarily hoping that it really is him refusing to let go but the blank stare doesn’t give any indication of it.
“WALL-E.”
She could call it desperation, or her just being tired of being so useless, because now that she’s finally found a directive all her own, she cannot accomplish it.
She pulls, even uses her free hand to push his off, but then…
“Eva-aaa.”
That ridiculous pronunciation of her name comes through his mouth, and suddenly, making sense and/or grasping illogical concepts are technicalities as tedious as to why she came to Earth in the first place.
Ratings: K
Pairings: WALL-E/EVE
Warnings: Spoilers for the movie.
Useless.
The adjective runs through her hardware system tirelessly, while something indefinable trudges through, through…
It’s something far too illogical for her to truly grasp, but through yet another illogical concept she retains has the capacity to grasp it so firmly, she aches. Like the several things she has come to encounter since he made himself known to her, it’s a brand new sense. Like a portion of the things she had found to be irritating and well, useless, so does this particular sense. But this time, this sense is much more intensified, and it’s as if she’s breaking down merely at the sight of him. Because it’s not really him.
He holds a light bulb in one hand, the Rubik's cube in another, and he simply stares. Vacantly, which is something she would never describe him as. Even when she first met him, she could think all she wanted about him, but dull and vacant were never part of the description. However, now he could very well line up with a dozen other machines and be classified as yet another model. Programmed a certain way, he would act according to that programming, would follow it without question. A single directive would be his one and only calling.
It can’t be though. She fought, she literally fought to bring all those humans and those robots back to this place they deemed home--but not for them. No, as selfish as it may sound, it was actually the least selfish act she had ever committed because she acted for a purpose rather than a directive that she would normally pursue in order not to be destroyed.
Thus this cannot be where it ends, with WALL-E having no recollection of the last 700 years, of the past days in which he stood there just wanting to be near her. Now that they are in such close proximity, his mechanism cannot honestly be without memory--without personality.
But he places the Rubik's cube and the light bulb, along with a dozen other of his precious trinkets, inside his compact system and crushes them without the knowledge that it crushes a part of her too. He even runs over his pet cockroach, but just as her, the cockroach doesn’t give up, not yet, and both pursue him as he diligently heads towards the waste.
“WALL-E,” she calls.
The fact is, this new sense scares and fills her simultaneously. To hold hands, she comprehends it so well now--his innate craving to want to hold onto something. To have found that understanding, has brought something in her she knows for a fact not too many other robots have discovered. It has made her truly unique, but as he continues to ignore her, and just look her like that doesn’t make her feel so special.
She performs a last ditch effort, because logic is telling her that at least he’s not broken beyond repair, at least he’s, he’s…surviving. So she decides to do one last thing, to really bring him back, to have him live like the WALL-E she’s grown to know so well.
She clasps her hand with his, firmly, tightly so he can’t scurry off. She also grabs a hold of his line of sight, catches his eyes, and tries to exude yet something else she discovered. She searches for that spark that is so vitally him, but when she fails to find it, she tilts her head down, where they’re practically touching, and gives him a spark. Just hoping against hope that the blue spark will jolt him alive, but no. Still empty. She all but sighs, and begins pulling away.
Her hand remains in his however, and she pulls away gently, but his hand seems to give a firmer squeeze. Sighing, she turns back to him, momentarily hoping that it really is him refusing to let go but the blank stare doesn’t give any indication of it.
“WALL-E.”
She could call it desperation, or her just being tired of being so useless, because now that she’s finally found a directive all her own, she cannot accomplish it.
She pulls, even uses her free hand to push his off, but then…
“Eva-aaa.”
That ridiculous pronunciation of her name comes through his mouth, and suddenly, making sense and/or grasping illogical concepts are technicalities as tedious as to why she came to Earth in the first place.