Work Text:
“Hello, child,” Timekeeper says, ducking down next to Strawberry Crepe to be closer to their height.
The child in question completely startles and almost drops the heavily augmented screwdriver in their hand. “YOU!!” they shout, turning around quickly in their seat to point at the being. “HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE AGAIN, YOU ANOMALY??”
In coordination with Strawberry Crepe’s hand movement, a sentry robot detaches itself from a nearby wall to their left to hold its javelin close to Timekeeper’s throat. Timekeeper’s eyebrows raise slightly and they simply smile back in response.
Creepy freak, how did they get in? Strawberry Crepe panics to themself. They even updated their sensors from last time!
“No need to be so aggressive,” Timekeeper says, taking the weapon's tip in between two fingers and tilting it away from themself before straightening out their back and gazing around the workshop.
From where they stand, various machinery and robotic parts lie strewn about the expanse of the room, with larger ones mounted to walls and having holographic screens to accompany them. Several salvaged arcade machines line one corner of the room, neatly organized next to a tan couch with multiple pillows.
“Was this finished last time I was here?” Timekeeper asks while tapping on the metal casing of a large robotic arm that hangs over the workspace.
Faint ticking noises can be heard in the ensuing silence. Strawberry Crepe isn’t going to just let what just happened slide, but the anomaly did ask about their robots. After a few seconds they grumble a “hmph” noise and the arm whirrs to life, its clawed fingers configuring themselves to make a flat hand before a pink glow begins to emanate from its palm. That glow then intensifies, spreading outwards until it produces a curved holographic shield that extends almost to the ceiling.
“Nope! Now it's equipped with several fully functional settings and can even do basic hand signs!” the child replies, eagerly taking the opportunity to gloat in an exaggerated pose with a satisfied little grin. As they speak, the hand of the arm cycles through its missile launcher and beam projectile forms before turning into a peace sign and then a middle finger. Timekeeper happily reciprocates the gesture.
“But don't try to change the subject, I wanna know how you got in here without triggering any of my alarms!” they say, leaning forward with both hands holding onto the bottom of their seat. When a moment passes without a response, they continue frustratedly with “What’re you even made of, anyway? It’s not fair to keep so many secrets!”
At the lack of any answer from the being, Strawberry Crepe snarls and grits out “Don’t ignore me! How do you keep getting in here?! Hey- stop touching that!!”
They try to reach up and slap at the being’s repeated poking of an access port, but fail to even touch the being’s hand given the height difference between the two. Timekeeper just raises their hand even higher with an impossibly smug smile adorning their face as the child continues to struggle.
Eventually they stop their teasing, choosing instead to snake their way around the child to the previously used workstation in front of them. Strawberry Crepe wishes for them to both admire their work and to stop touching it. The being’s eyes catch on the holographic display of blueprints for a smaller, more intricate mechanical arm than the massive one to their right, as well as a bin of dozens of somewhat organized metal scraps next to the desk. A separate screen shows a model of the headgear the child always wears, complete with minor fixes to the parts closest to their ears.
“What’re you working on currently?”
Strawberry Crepe mutters something about the being answering for once, but regardless replies, “W-Well, I just finished upgrading my headset again and was gonna, uh, increase the weight capacity of my arms before a certain SOMEONE decided to so rudely interrupt my work! Bet you’re awfully proud of yourself, anomaly?”
Timekeeper hums contentedly and begins walking over to the cluster of arcade machines. When they come to a stop, they’re in front of a golden one labeled ‘Katamari Damacy’ in bold, obnoxious green lettering on the side.
The child springs up out of their seat, following behind the being in quicker, albeit smaller steps. “Oh! But now that you’re here, I can start working on my security instead!!” they say mostly to themself. “This is brilliant, the source of my problems is right at my doorstep playing games in my home!”
Both lapse into quiet. Strawberry Crepe pulls up a holographic tablet to work with while the being focuses intently on the game in front of them, smiling as their score gradually increases.
“If you’d really like to know, there’s a decently sized hole in your sensors’ range right above my head,” Timekeeper says after a minute, not looking away from the screen. Strawberry Crepe curses in response, face contorting in frustration as they begin furiously tapping on their tablet.
Several more minutes pass. Eventually, they finish their work and proudly exclaim “There! That’s all good, I’d like to see you try to break in now!”
“It’ll be like a puzzle for next time,” is all Timekeeper responds with.
“There better not be a next time,” the child grumbles. Strawberry Crepe wonders if they’ll ever be free of idiot intruders messing with their bots.
“Aww, do you not enjoy my company?”
“No!! You keep breaking into my workshop and touching my things!!”
“Your free will is an illusion, child.”
“Then why can I do this?? ” Strawberry Crepe shouts, summoning a large, metallic claw above their right hand to swipe at the being. Timekeeper jumps back several feet, just in time for the claw to leave a dent in the floor where they previously stood and dematerialize after a few seconds.
“Woah! No need to throw such a tantrum, and right while I was near the end of this level!”
Strawberry Crepe does a sudden, full-body pause, still breathing harshly from said tantrum, before scurrying over to look at the game. There’s no way. Their eyes scan the screen, gawking comedically at the current level being played and the being’s score of that level.
“How’d you beat the one before this?? I’ve spent at least an hour trying to get past it!”
“Oh, that one? The beach one? Starts out by a zoo, if memory serves? Once you get past that first area it really isn’t that difficult.”
“You have to show me! Show me, show me, show me!”
“Alright, alright,” the being concedes as Strawberry Crepe continues their eager chanting, navigating to the level select screen and choosing the previous one. The level starts up again and the two return to silence, both focused on the being’s avatar as they easily maneuver around obstacles and pick up items.
About a third of the way through it becomes obvious that Timekeeper has a significant edge over the child’s old score, and a frown begins to crease their face.
By halfway, a mix of confusion, annoyance, and frustration is evident in the child’s expression, arms loosely crossed in front of them.
When three quarters of the time limit have passed, the being reaches a high enough score to beat the level, and starts earning bonus points.
Eventually, their final score is displayed on screen, and angels may as well be descending from the heavens with how the being practically radiates joyous smug energy. Strawberry Crepe’s left eye twitches. The being looks between the game in front of them and the child to their right.
“What do you think about that?”
“That’s not fair!!” Strawberry Crepe yells in sudden outburst, “that’s not fair, that’s not fair at all!! Why can you just waltz in here and beat me at my own game?! Have you ever even played this before??”
Timekeeper takes a second to wrack their memory. “Mmm, nope! Well, only once or twice.”
The child sputters, choking out another “that’s not fair!” after a few moments.
“You need to stop being so good at this!!” they say, accusingly pointing at the being with their left hand. “Leave my games alone, or figure out how to teach me to play them better!”
It is then that Timekeeper notices something peculiar on the child’s forearm. Where there should be the smooth, intricate metal designs of their prosthetics, there’s instead a jagged laceration running diagonally down the inside of their arm, exposing torn wiring underneath.
Timekeeper’s hand abruptly darts out to grab the child’s wrist, and both freeze.
“What’s this?” they question, face uncharacteristically blank at the damage before them, twisting the arm slightly to get a better look.
“No!!” Strawberry Crepe screams, voice breaking horribly and yanking their arm out of the being’s grip. The two stare at each other in a cold, uncomfortable silence.
What’ve I done what’ve I done I should’ve been better at- they could- I should’ve- I can-
“I- You-” the child stutters. “It’s fine. I can fix it easily, it’s nothing.”
The being’s eyes narrow.
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Not uh, not unless I touch it.”
Their eyes narrow imperceptibly further.
“And none of your… ‘friends’ could help you with something like this?” the being asks, head tilting.
A shaky, brief look of confusion flits across Strawberry Crepe’s face before their features loosen into a more neutral expression, then solidify more to one of annoyance.
“No. Half the time they’re too busy being mopey, delusional, or just useless,” the child scowls, pointedly ignoring the affection that bubbles up with their insults. They shake their head. “It’s too far of a trip anyway, and I can handle this on my own.”
“Are you?”
“What?”
“Handling this on your own, I mean.”
“I- Duh!! I can do things on my own!! I’ll have this repaired in no time, you’ll see!!” Even after all the anxiety, the child won’t stand for this slandering of their abilities.
Timekeeper hums, and some of the tension in the room eases for them both at the child’s declaration. Bounding back to their work station, Strawberry Crepe eagerly snatches a few tools off their respective racks.
“Just watch me!! I don’t need anyone’s help!!”
They turn away from the being, shifting a pink, holographic screen of their arm to be in front of them before dashing around the room to grab the remaining wires, scrap metal, and contraptions necessary. Most of the materials are already present at their desk, but they make a show of taking extra regardless.
Observing the chaos from halfway across the room, a smile returns to Timekeeper’s face. They perk up suddenly, however, and reach down to pull out and check a golden pocket watch attached by thin chain to one of their belt loops.
“Ah, would you look at the time! I almost forgot I have business elsewhere to attend to!” they say, beginning a brisk walk to the nearest doorway.
“You- hey!! I haven’t even started the fun parts yet!!” the child shouts after them, turning in their seat. Strawberry Crepe feels some twisted mix of relief and distress at seeing them go, thoughts of finally, please leave, and no wait don’t go, and but we can have so much more fun! appearing in their mind simultaneously.
“Sorry dear, until next time!” Timekeeper calls out while the upper half of their body peeks up from the doorway, waving cheerily to the child.
“Fine!! Go bother someone else, creep!!” they bark back over their shoulder.
The sound of heels clacking can be heard down the adjacent hallway for several seconds until it ceases abruptly, and the workshop is once again (mostly) quiet.
Strawberry Crepe grumbles something about weirdos, anomalies, and an invasion of their personal space, but after a few moments their brows crease into a more pained expression, one that almost looks like they’re about to cry. They breathe in, then out, and lean in toward their left arm on the table.
It’s time they get started.