Work Text:
Strutting to her room and closing the door with a soft click of the door latch, Vee collapsed onto the floor. Another stressful day. Monotonous at best, but at worst it was overstimulating. Vee scratched under her rolled up sleeves. The suit she was given for her game shows was far too tight. The shiny satin on her pants were digging into her skin, and her tail thrashed about, suffocated. Her antennae were all bent from pulling on them behind the curtain to calm herself. One was pulled to a near 180 degree angle, which sent radio static from Vee’s bated breath directly to her CPU, and what a screeching noise that was. She batted away the tiny blip in her vision. She wasn’t doing that again.
Today was stressful for a number of reasons. On top of the usual dialtone static between answers because of an overloaded processor or older children baiting her into calling them something along the lines of “Micox Harry”, she was also worrying about another, much larger problem.
Her aging.
During the quiz shows, she was supposed to be bright, on her feet, quick and witty. She was the star of the show, after all. But, nowadays, it seems she can’t keep up with all the hustle and bustle like she used to. And during the day’s 2pm showing, as she pulled up the answer key for the 5th question, she stumbled, sputtered, and shut off. Only for a few seconds, but enough for it to cause a divot in her voice and a chatter in the crowd. She felt positively awful, and that sour attitude had to stop if she wanted to keep up with demand.
Why was she put on such a high pedestal anyway? It didn’t seem like any of the other Toons (subtracting Dandy, for obvious reasons) had to deal with the same stress she put on. Astro was in charge of the planetarium, which was easygoing enough. Sprout taught baking lessons, which, besides the imminent kid on a sugar high, was his natural element. Shelly too.
Oh. Shelly.
As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she hated that ammonite. The dinosaur fad was running a little old, and the kids she did have to deal with were very few. Mostly, she spent days playing with the tools all by herself, drawing in the sand, flipping through dinosaur books, and watching Bill Nye on the TV monitor. And boy, was Vee jealous.
Shelly tried to make it seem like she was the saddest sap for having nothing to do, but it was Vee’s dream to get just a moment’s peace. Even the other Toons would try to force responsibility onto her, when they couldn’t go to Dandy, that is. It put Vee in this awkward place between never being the best, but being far above the average. It felt like a trap she couldn’t break free from.
That was enough bitching and moaning for her schedule, though. She gracefully unrobed herself and went to her closet for a pair of black sweats and a green top. It wasn’t like anyone was going to see her for the rest of the night. They all knew her routine. Stepping into her pants, she began to feel a familiar note ruminating in her framing.
She pushed it to the back of her mind, but it wouldn’t flee her. She sat on the side of her bed, her large head in her disproportionately sized hands. It broke her inside to not be able to take on what was asked. It was her only duty, her entire purpose. What was she without her game show?
She yanked on her tail, the tautness of the wire sending shocks to her core. She pulled on it again, and again, and again, until she pulled so hard she thought it might detach from her completely. She put a hand to the side of her screen and banged it with her fist. Hard. The static that followed was calming. But it wasn’t enough.
She threw open her chest compartment. There it was. Glowing a faint red, her force-reset button. If she pressed it, she wouldn’t be active for hours. It would clear all of her RAM. It would bring her a sense of peace, although it would undo all of the short-term software installed in her hard drive. Her hand drew closer, before pulling away. What would Delilah think?
… Honestly, who cared what Delilah thought.
Her finger delved deeper in her chest compartment, following the blinking light with masterful precision. One click, and it was all over. Her faux fingertip had just hovered over the button when, from behind the doorknob:
“Vee? Dear?”
Fuck. Vee thought. Teagan.
She shut her compartment with a loud CLANK and yanked down her shirt to cover the undone screws she never replaced. She shakily rose to her feet, bending a wire over a couple dead pixels in the top right corner of her screen. If she was asked, Vee would proclaim that it was just a new style.
“Come in,” Vee chimed with a false smile evident in her voice.
Teagan stepped into the room, her pristine china radiating her everyday white sheen. Her makeup was a little worn from a long day’s work, but Vee couldn’t deny that she was still absolutely gorgeous. Teagan knit her eyebrows together, glancing at Vee in a nearly patronizing way, dissecting her every movement like a helpless frog on a dissection table.
“Vee, I heard some loud banging coming from your room,” Teagan stated almost too calmly, voice dripping with soft tones like an overmixed merengue, “Are you alright, teacake?”
“Yes, Teagan. I’m alright. You’re probably just hearing Shrimpo punching his punching bag down the hall,” Vee said, forcing a smile. She may be seconds from exploding, but damn, was she a good liar.
Teagan saw right through her. “I don’t recall Shrimpo ever being able to punch through metal.”
Shit, she forgot about that part.
“If you’re in pain, dear, I could easily help you out..”
Teagan stepped forward, holding a sparkly, gloved hand out to Vee. Vee, cautious and standoffish, pulled back, moving backward with levelheaded precision although her CPU was starting to fry. Her backup fans turned on, but they weren’t enough to stop the coursing heat. She loathed comfort. She didn’t need it. The whole reason why she was built with her mechanical mind was to jump back on her feet at a second’s notice.
Suddenly, Vee slipped. Her clothes from earlier, she hadn’t picked them up like she normally did, and the silk sheen of her coattails predicted her downfall. The back of her screen careened straight into the wall. The discalibration of her balance monitors set her system into overdrive, and her screen blipped between green and black, before flashing and rebooting momentarily. Unsupported and lifeless, she dropped to the floor, only to regain consciousness a second later.
Vee awoke to lipstick-coated lips mouthing words she couldn’t quite understand. Everything seemed hazy. What just happened? A loud ringing was evident in her right audio import. She moved her antennae slightly out of the way. Teagan moved a comforting palm to Vee’s wrist, rubbing it softly with her thumb. Vee, still too confused to pull back, stayed against the wall, trying to recalibrate.
The pain hit Vee like a freight train.
Clutching her head, she curled up as small as she could make herself, squeaking quietly as to not cry out in pain. Teagan immediately noticed this, and opened her large, glistening purse and rummaged through for a first aid kit. Popping open the locks, she discovered a small fan. She assumed an ice pack would cause too much condensation buildup, so she fanned the back of Vee’s head to calm the “inflamation” of her mechanical synapses.
“Nononono– I’m fine– I’m fine–- I promise, Teagan, I can deal with this myself–” Vee choked, but Teagan just shushed her, holding her finger to her screen.
“Don’t feel ashamed, Vee.” Teagan assured, looking directly into her eyes, “I will take care of you.”
Vee gripped Teagan’s shoulder and shakily rose to her feet. She brushed off her pants and pointed toward the door. All the comforting words were overwhelming. As much as she loved them, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t let herself stoop that low.
“Just go.” Vee murmured.
“I’m not leaving,” Teagan stated bluntly, fixing her feather boa around her shoulders, “I need to make sure you’re okay first, teacake.”
Vee sighed, climbed into bed, and pulled her light green comforter up and over her head. This was embarrassing as is. Teagan wasn’t her mother. What else could she possibly want to do for her? She was fine now! What more could a robot like her really need? Except… possibly another blanket. And maybe some soft music.
Teagan put a hand to Vee’s forehead and nearly instantly pulled it away. “You’re running warm, Vee,” she prodded, concerned, “and your backup fans aren’t on. Are you coming down with another virus? I could get Brightney to help you–”
“I dont need anything!” Vee snapped, face spasming with lime green pixels. “I just had a rough day, ok?! Do you know how hard I have to work around here?! How many pathetic faces I have to deal with every single day without fail?! I can’t keep up, I hate my job, and I’m going to get rep… re..”
Vee stopped, shaking. Her face continued to fragment into lesser and lesser bits as she softly let out a shaky breath. The sound of her radio feedback played louder and louder in her processor as she curled in on herself. Everything was too loud. Too bright. It was all far too much. She sniffled, and that sniffle turned into small whines. Soon enough, she was wailing into her blankets.