Work Text:
The cable car screeched to a stop once it has arrived at the station underneath the center of the Administrative District. The crowd inside fumbled among themselves as they pushed past each other to leave the vehicle, stealing glances at the strange sight of a certain passenger.
The gray-haired person stepped outside first before looking back at their companion who was slowly making his way out. The vehicle momentarily rumbled as he exited, including the ground that he stepped on with another foot. Unfortunately, such a small commotion was not left unnoticed with the figure towering over the other passengers waiting.
“Let’s go.” The person waved their hand to the robot as they walked in front first, gulping nervously at the fact that all eyes were on them because of the conspicuous character they brought along, who only followed them silently except for his loud footsteps.
With the Administrative District finally reopening its doors to the Underworld, supplies ran rampant to and fro as deliveries were made to those who are still living below. Surely, the Silvermane Guards dispatched in the area that was tasked to help with the citizens were a huge help, but there is only so much that they can do as human beings.
As such, the Robot Settlement also extended their helping hand to assist both the guards and the people like they usually do, making quick work of the matters in the Underworld. Metal and mechanical as they were, errors were bound to happen and occasional repairs should be conducted to have a smooth flow of events, but Clara later realized that the majority of the materials they have left in the settlement were no more than scraps and could no longer uphold even a small robot.
The Trailblazer suggested buying some gear in Serval’s workshop in the Overworld when they learned of their current dilemma and even volunteered to go fetch some for them. Clara agreed but was a little worried that the Trailblazer might fail to pick and discern the materials they needed the most. To both of their surprise, Svarog spoke up to say he will come along so that he may identify what they have to acquire.
“I would come with you in place of Mr. Svarog,” Clara had said before they left. “but I don’t know some of the specific names of the goods to identify them. I only know them by their appearances. Mr. Svarog hasn’t been on the surface for a long time, so I hope you can look after him in my stead.” And that was what they did, though they have forgotten that the district citizens are not used to seeing a huge robot walking around the place.
As the two trudged towards Neverwinter Workshop, the Trailblazer looked behind their back once in a while to see if Svarog was still tailing them (though they doubt that he would be led astray due to some random distraction) to make sure he was doing fine because of the stares on him, but it looks like he doesn’t even care.
When they gave him one last glance, Svarog paused and spoke, surprising the gray-haired person, “This is the twentieth time you have looked at me, Trailblazer. Is there something wrong?” Even the people that were unconsciously following him jolted at the raspy sound of his robotic voice, curious at where it came from when he doesn’t even have a mouth.
“Mom, did it escape the museum?” The Trailblazer heard a small child ask and it took a lot in them to prevent bursting out in laughter.
They quickly shook their head at his question. “No, no. I was wondering if you were uncomfortable with the stares they were giving you but as I see, you’re not even affected by it. I should have known.” The two began walking again when Svarog replied, “There is no need for concern. I am alright. Please continue to lead the way.” They gave a nod, passing by the Everwinter Monument and finally arriving in front of the workshop.
“Excuse us!” The Trailblazer announced as they pushed the door open and scanned the place in search of the person they are looking for. Their gaze then landed on Molly at the reception booth when they couldn’t find Serval. “Hey, Molly. Do you know where Serval is?” They asked then raised a brow when they saw the said girl looking at the huge robot behind them, her mouth agape.
They only sighed at another one of this kind of reaction and slammed their palm on the bell before them to snap her out of her reverie. Seems like it worked with the way Molly furiously blinked her eyes and finally closed her mouth. “O-Oh! Serval should be back soon from Qlipoth Fort. She had some matters to talk about with the Supreme Guardian, you see.”
The Trailblazer hummed in acknowledgment, realizing that it must have something to do with the late Supreme Guardian Cocolia. They nodded and pointed at the shelves and trinkets on the shop’s walls. "Mind if we take a look around? We would know what to buy then when Serval gets back.”
“Not at all. But be careful not to put any of them in disarray.” Molly answered to which the Trailblazer thanked then motioned the robot to search for the materials that they need. Svarog approached the shelf with the most gears in-store, scanning every single one of them.
He would have to give credit to this Serval for having her gadgets and devices arranged properly by category on each shelf even though they were quite clunky from afar. Though she has a gear or two that wasn’t to be seen anywhere on the walls, Svarog concluded that it may be because of the small robots’ materials being difficult to retrieve anywhere in the Administrative District as they are more prevalent in the Underworld.
After confirming that most of the materials can be purchased from the shop, the door opened to reveal a bright blonde woman wearing a flashy yet unique outfit, probably to fit her style. “Oh, Trailblazer, you’re here!” She exclaimed and put a hand over the said person, her eyes drifting off to the elephant—the robot—in the room. “And you brought someone with you.”
Svarog spared a look at her, scanning her face, “Analyzing… Analysis result: Serval Landau, former Architect and current mechanic in Neverwinter Workshop. Greetings.” He said which made Serval’s eyes light in excitement and huff in awe. “And he knows me too! Nice to meet you. Can I get my customer’s name?”
“Svarog.” She grinned and drew closer to him to pat his massive metal arm. “Cool! So, what brought you here? Need anything?” Serval asked as she went behind the counter, ready to entertain the peculiar customer. “Affirmative. The Trailblazer mentioned that you may have a few stocks of some gear and materials that we need to repair the robots. 87.2% of the required goods are present in your workshop.”
She nodded approvingly. “A pretty high percentage. That means I have most of what you need to buy?”
“Correct. Fourteen items, a box of each one.” The grin on Serval’s lips became even wider when she heard today’s orders which would possibly bring her the most money ever since she opened this establishment (not that she was fixated on the shop’s business, but she was recently running low on money).
Serval then took a paper and pen from the desk counter. “It’s been a while since I got an order like this because I mostly specialize with repairs, though if you do need help with those too, be sure to let me know. Alright. State what you need and I’ll bring them out from the storage. I take that you can carry the boxes yourself, Svarog?” She asked, tilting her head to the side a bit. “Affirmative. The materials are…”
As Svarog cited what they need to buy, Serval scribbled it down the paper she was holding. Once he was done, she called Molly to help her with taking the boxes out of the storage. Just as the Trailblazer was about to step outside to avoid being asked to help, it was too late as Serval added, “Can you help, too, Trailblazer? Thanks!”
The gray-haired person sulkily walked to where the owner was, muttering under their breath, “I don’t get paid enough for this.”
The trio pushed out the boxes from the storage area, with Svarog taking it out of their way and putting it across the room to make space. After a while, they were finally finished, sweat apparent on their temples. Serval stretched out her arms and fingers as she headed to the counter once more to calculate how much they have to pay.
The Trailblazer flinched when realization dawned on them, slowly turning to the huge robot who shared their look. “I’m paying for this, aren’t I?” The nod Svarog gave nearly made them buck their knees in defeat. They scratched their cheek, trying not to think of how this purchase would leave a colossal hole in their bank account. To mask their growing distress, they chuckled awkwardly, saying, “I guess it’s fine, I do owe Clara.. I think.”
Svarog paid no mind to what they said for Serval announced the amount to be paid. The Trailblazer felt their vision blur and their head spin as they took out their wallet and pulled out cash from inside. They placed it on Serval’s open palm and snapped the wallet close while the woman counted the said amount. She then pulled out a key, inserted it presumably in a drawer beside her, and put the money aside then locking it again to keep it safe.
“Full payment received. Thank you for your patronage! You guys sure you don’t want some help? We got four more hands to spare.” Serval inquired as Svarog and the Trailblazer turned to carry the boxes. “It is appreciated, but we can manage. Thank you, Serval.” Svarog said as he lifted the majority of the boxes. On the other hand, the Trailblazer only carried five.
Serval rushed to the front of the shop, opening the door. “I’ll hold the door for you, then. I look forward to seeing you in the Underworld when I come to visit.” She beamed as the Belobog hero and their companion left the Neverwinter Workshop. The Trailblazer heaved a huge sigh, adjusting one of their hands to carry the box.
“Okay, let’s head back. Clara and the others are probably waiting for us.” They began to walk and Svarog followed with no reply. The unmistakable stares that he was getting were still as present as before, but as usual, he did not even think about it.
Svarog was so puzzled by the Trailblazer looking back at him earlier that he failed to observe the current structure and view of the Administrative District. He was here before, but he was mostly in Qlipoth Fort or out beyond the city’s gates, assisting the Architect that made him. He noticed a few details that changed from what he can remember, but other than that, it was still the same. He should take Clara here sometime, for she only managed to visit once, during the official opening accompanied by Natasha and Oleg.
As the duo passed the bookshop, Svarog’s red eye caught sight of a building whose glass windows on the first floor were adorned with green vines. On its left, he can make out a display of various small pots of colorful flowers. There was something about the bright colors that reminded him of something… of someone. Before he can think about what he wanted to do, he stopped and said, “Wait.”
The Trailblazer whirled around to face him with a raised brow. “Huh? What is it?” They asked, their voice a bit strained due to the boxes gaining weight on their hands and arms. They gritted their teeth when they saw how Svarog carried the other nine boxes with ease. He looked like he wasn’t even trying. “Can we visit the Eversummer Florist before returning?”
Among all the places in the Overworld, the Trailblazer least expected Svarog to want to go to the flower shop. It’s the least expected scenario they had in mind, too. It would be quite a bizarre sight to see a huge robot strutting about inside there. They tried to read the intention from his face, but his expression did not change. They don’t think it could even express emotions. Or were they just terrible at understanding a robot?
“Oh, sure. We should place these down first.” They then replied after a moment and approached one of the benches at the side which is near the flower shop. After relieving themselves of the materials’ weight, they climbed up the steps and went inside the shop.
“Good morning! Vaska at your service. If you need some help picking the right flowers, feel free to let me know.” The staff at the front greeted them as they entered and the Trailblazer waved back at her with a smile. They were kind of glad that Vaska didn’t seem to be as shocked as the others about Svarog’s presence. As they inhaled the air, they can strongly smell the mixed fragrance coming from around the shop.
The vines that can be seen from the outside were dangling on the inner walls as well. Slim lamps of small flowers were scattered among the glass windows inside the shop as they hang from the ceiling. The sills at the bottom were not safe from the flower pots as they served as their footing. Two tables and two furniture with open drawers were also decorated with their displays on both sides, including the open cases near Vaska. Even more flowers were kept on the shelves behind the counter.
Svarog took a brief look around the place then approached the staff. “What flower is the best gift fit for a child?” He asked. The Trailblazer hummed in satisfaction upon them catching up to Svarog’s motive. So he wants to give Clara a flower. Would it serve as a birthday gift? Now that they think about it, they haven’t got the chance to ask the little girl when her birthday is.
“Ah, I just know the thing!” Vaska proclaimed and took a few steps towards the drawer on her left and lifted a small pot from the desk that fits right into one’s palm. The flower rooted in its soil bloomed red and yellow colors that blended so well that they looked like sunlight. The dark green of its stem was not a hinder to its beauty, for it made the petals stand out all the more.
Vaska raised the pot to show it to Svarog, “This is a Sunshine. A lovely red and yellow flower that resembles the sun, that’s why when someone is looking at it, it makes them feel warm inside.” She stated. Svarog studied the flower as he carefully took the pot from Vaska, while the Trailblazer gave her a proud look for hitting the bullseye. It’s a gift worth giving to Clara, taking into account its color and meaning.
Upon seeing the flowers outside the shop as they were about to head back, their gleaming colors vividly reminded him of the child he takes care of back at the settlement. There was something about their certain brightness that resembles Clara and her character, especially when she smiles. Her smile was like the sun over the cold winter in the Underworld, warming those who she cares for and care for her.
Not only that, Svarog realized that Clara had never seen such a beautiful thing before since she grew up where there were only snow and plant life was scarce. He senses that she would love this. It was not calculated. He does not know how high the percentage is of her accepting and liking the gift, but somehow he can feel that she would cherish it. This is the flower that perfectly represents his dear family.
“I will purchase this.” He finally said, turning his head to the Trailblazer beside him to indicate to pay for the flower. Their mouth fell open in shock at such a bold move. Just then, this robot deemed them and her Astral Express friends as hostile just because they want to free this planet from a Stellaron, even going through the lengths of fighting them, and now he’s vacuuming the life out of their wallet. To be honest, it feels like he’s vacuuming their own life, too.
It’s for Clara, it’s for Clara. This is all for Clara, the Trailblazer chanted in their head as they took out one bill, nearly the last of what they had (for the rest are cable car fees), and handed it to Vaska who was way too happy to receive it. At least it wasn’t as expensive as what they bought in the workshop, though it still took a toll on their financial state. They felt a figurative tear trace down their cheek as the florist put the pot inside a small rectangular paper bag and handed it to them, thanking them for buying.
The two finally descended from the flower shop and the Trailblazer walked towards their share of boxes to carry. “Three of your boxes will be transferred to me,” Svarog suddenly said and did as he mentioned. “Please ensure that the flower is safe and will arrive with us in good condition.” He finished.
Seeing as it was an important gift for Clara, the Trailblazer nodded understandably, “Of course. You can count on me,” They bent down and picked up two of the boxes, which are just the right weight for them, with the handles of the paper bag wrapped around their fingers underneath. They gave Svarog one more look. “Any more detours?”
The robot shook his head, “Negative. The visit to the flower shop was an impulse. However, thank you for agreeing to come.”
“No problem. We should really go. There’s a cable car waiting right now at the station. We don’t want to miss it.”
-
. . .
When the Trailblazer and Svarog arrived at the Robot Settlement, the people near their tents scrambled to try to carry some boxes to reduce Svarog’s burden when they saw how many they brought back, but he simply told them that it was fine, also considering the fact he’s much stronger than all of them combined. Instead, two from the crowd took the boxes off of the Trailblazer and tailed them back to Svarog’s house.
Clara accidentally glimpsed the tall robot’s head when they entered the gate, and a big smile appeared on her face as she ran towards him, “Mr. Svarog, you’re back! How was the Administrative District?” She asked and asked more questions as she lend a hand in unloading the boxes from his arms to the ground of the courtyard, just below the steps of the nearby building.
Svarog answered all her questions shortly as the Trailblazer handed him the paper bag. Clara’s curious eyes gazed at the object, pointing at it. “Oh, what else did you buy?” She asked and paid attention to Svarog who bent down to place it on the ground and tore open the paper bag from the side, in fear that if he put his hand inside the sole opening at the top he might crush the flower and its pot. A glint of excitement and surprise danced across Clara’s pupils as she saw its content.
She crouched in front of the robot and reached out to the flower’s soft petals. She ran her fingers through them, delicately rubbing them between her forefinger and thumb to feel their texture. The smile never faltered as she wrapped her hands around the pot and lifted it to her face, sniffing the pleasant scent coming from the middle. One could only wonder how her smile became even brighter as she did that.
“Mr. Svarog, what is this? It’s so pretty.. and it smells nice, too.” She said, dropping her knees and placing the pot on her lap. “It is called a flower. Its type is called Sunshine. According to the florist, the colors made it look like the sun, which warms oneself just by gazing at it.” He explained, and the child’s mouth turned into an ‘o’. “I think I have seen this before. Oh, from the movies in your memory bank, Mr. Svarog!” She exclaimed with a wide grin.
He nodded once. “And now you have one yourself, Clara. It's a living thing, meaning that it will wither without proper care. It needs sunlight but it doesn’t reach here, so our lamps will do. You should also water it when the soil gets dry.” He instructed, stopping himself from saying his precise calculations to let Clara decide for herself at this moment if the flower would have a chance to grow in their environment.
Svarog’s speech pattern was different than usual. Rather than being solely in a robotic manner, his choice of words was careful and as if.. fatherly, the Trailblazer noticed. It was similar to when Clara tries her best to speak formally.
Clara nodded knowingly at his words. “So it’s like taking care of a robot,” She concluded, “But rather than tinkering with it, we should look after it and the place it grows on with light and water. I got it, Mr. Svarog!” She noted.
There was a moment of silence between them as Svarog studied her facial expressions. She was all smiles and a frown never crossed her face ever since she saw the flower, but he couldn’t help asking, “Clara, do you like my gift?”
The Trailblazer swore that, despite being a robot, they can hear a certain fondness in his tone. Maybe Clara was right when she said that there was some human-like emotional intelligence to him.
“‘Like’?” Clara asked in disbelief at the use of the word to describe the gift. She stood up with the flower pot in her hand and tiptoed to wrap her arm around Svarog’s head, “Mr. Svarog, I love it! I will keep this safe for as long as I live and for as long as you will watch over me.” She said, her big smile slowly fading into a small one, just enough for someone to know that this act from her father figure made her happy.
Svarog lifted an arm and placed it on her back, patting her lightly. “I see. I’m glad, Clara.”
No calculations and Svarog was right. Clara loves the gift.
“Wait, I have two conditions,” the child immediately added and pulled away from the hug. She looked at the robot’s single red eye with her determined ones. “First, the both of us will take care of the flower, and second, the next time I want to act out a movie, I want you to finally play as the dad, Mr. Svarog.” She uttered in one breath.
Svarog was a bit taken aback at her request. All this time, she wanted him to play as the dad but he blindly took the part of the trees or rocks without knowing this. Perhaps he should have asked her from the start. If this is one of her conditions, he will abide.
For some reason, she felt that the robot let out a smile, “You can trust me to help you with the flower, but Clara,” He paused, and Clara feared that he would still insist on playing as a rock and a tree, when he then said, “Even when you’re not acting out a movie, I am already your father.”
Clara’s eyes widened in astonishment at his remark. Though both she and Svarog have acknowledged one another as family, this is the first time that he openly admitted that she was like a daughter to him. She thought she might never hear the day he would say it, but now it has come to pass.
Her eyes pricked with tears, but she blinked them away before they can overwhelm her. She shouldn’t cry at the obvious truth. “Then continue to be my dad when acting. Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
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Video recording ended.
This matter is of tremendous significance to Clara, and this log has been tagged Important.