Work Text:
Blake tapped the keyboard.
> FileNotFoundError: [Errno 2] No such file or directory: ‘main_module_feeling’
He frowned. He tried a new line of code.
> filepath = f"./backup_core/{module_name}”
The same error.
> filepath = f"./legacy_modules/{module_name}”
And again.
He was running out of patience. It didn't make sense. A piece of Weaselware doesn't just… disappear. It's a program, it's hard-coded in, theoretically it shouldn't be possible for it to suddenly not exist. Blake slumped backwards in his chair, face in his hands. He liked his job, of course he did. But the problems that had arisen didn't make sense.
File not found. Directory not found. Env values not found. Access denied. Contact your administrator.
He sighed so heavily he could feel various circuits vibrate within him. Blake sat up straight again, and skimmed the code he'd been attempting to run. Everything was indented as it should be. Colons where they were needed. Brackets closed. And yet, nothing. It didn't detect the module.
He squinted a little, before commenting out his block of code. Beneath it, he wrote a summary, in case Stone wanted to take a look later.
“#FileNotFoundError here. Doesn't detect any of our primary modules. Not sure why. Any ideas, lmk. -B”
Blake stood up after that, and with a swift kick he folded the chair in on itself, propping it up against the wall. He sat on a workbench, next to various animatronic parts and tools. The server room was a mess. He hadn't found it necessary to tidy up. It wasn't as if Fritz would come in and scold him.
…Blake missed that, to be honest.
He glanced at the flickering ceiling light. At the colours of the buttons around him. At the door to Parts and Service - a place he spent hours in with Manora.
Blake got up, and did a scan of the room. He closed open drawers, toolboxes, and shut down processes that weren't running. He picked up an old hard disk he'd meant to throw out, and went to toss it into a drawer. When he opened it, he was reminded of a side project he'd finished a few days prior.
Little metal flowers. That's right, he remembered now. During his time at Candy's establishment, he'd become friends with his sister, Cindy. She was… odd, certainly. But he didn't find it irritating. She was polite, direct, and could be funny. And she was rather pretty, too… but Blake preferred to not let that thought linger.
He tilted his head a bit, staring at them. The glow from his yellow eyes hit them, reflecting off of them. He gently placed the broken hard disk beside the faux flowers, before he picked them up. They stuck to the magnets in his palms, which made it easier than having to individually retrieve them.
Blake wasn't sure why he decided to go through the effort of making them at all. At the time, it made sense. Cindy likes flowers, even having plastic ones in her hair. Real flowers wilt quickly. Blake didn't have plastic on hand, but he did have metal. He found the night spent polishing the pieces, bending them, and welding them was more enjoyable than trying and failing to connect to modules.
He placed them on the workbench, next to the computer where he'd been working. Blake picked up a box of SSDs and kicked open the door to Parts and Service. It smelt like oil, gas, and cleaning supplies. He stepped over a mark left in the tiles from a chemical reaction, and put the box down. Beyond the clatter of metal, he could hear the door to the server room slide open.
He straightened, ears twitching to try and figure out who it was based off of the sound. Blake could hear whirring - someone looking around. Perhaps it was Popgoes. Maybe Stone. Manora?
“Blake?”
A friendly, familiar, feminine voice.
It was Cindy.
Blake blinked once, twice, shifting his posture when he registered who it was. He suddenly felt a tad bit embarrassed at the state of his room.
He glanced in a cracked mirror in the corner at himself. Hair was a mess as usual, but thankfully he wasn't covered in machine oil like the last time she visited. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and peeked into the server room.
“Ah, hello.” Blake said, upon seeing her.
She smiled a bit, small. Her pointy teeth didn't match her demeanor. She adjusted her pink bowtie, which matched her painted cheeks and ribbons around her wrists. Normally Blake thought purple and pink weren't a good combination, but it just… suited her. Her big brown eyes met his artificially yellow ones.
“Oh, there you are! I'm not interrupting anything important, am I? I hope I'm not.”
“No, don't worry about it.” Blake stepped into the room fully now, shutting the door with his foot. “Just putting things away. Eh…” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry about the mess. I uhm… haven't really…” He tried to find an excuse, but ended up just shrugging.
Cindy waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, you're fine, don't sweat it! I get it. You're not in business anymore, so there's no real pressure for appearances.”
Blake didn't tell her she had the right idea, but the wrong reason. He just nodded a bit.
“How are things?” Cindy asked, scanning the server room.
“Well… They could be worse. They could also be better.” Blake realised she would notice the flowers he made if he didn't move, so he strode over to the workbench, and leaned against it. Just in front of them. Her gaze followed, and rested on him.
He looked back down at her. She just shrugged a bit.
“Heh, yeah that makes sense… Any luck on those module things you were telling me about?”
“None.” He grumbled. “It cannot detect the modules, as if they physically do not exist.”
“Huh.” She blinked. “That's… weird. Any idea why?”
Blake knew she was asking to make conversation. She'd said before she didn't know a lot of technical things, but that she liked listening to how he explained it… Wait, was that a compliment disguised as a statement???
Blake shook his head. “None. Nothing concrete. I plan to ask Stone about it later, perhaps he has an idea of what it is.”
“Mm… I know the answer's probably no, but is there any way I can help?”
Blake hummed. The mechanical noise reverberated through the room. He eventually shook his head. “Not that I can think of.”
“Aw… How does that even happen?” She tilted her head. “That it can't find a module?”
Blake shrugged. Admittedly, he'd been wondering the same. “I'm not sure. There is no way it has been moved, or deleted, because those decisions need administrative permission. Which I do not have. So… I don't know. I really have no idea.”
“Shame…” Cindy hummed, the electrical noise making Blake's ears twitch.
Blake blinked three times. There was surely a smooth way to change the topic to the metal flowers. Some kind of witty comment, or a logical bridge. But by the time he figured it out, she would have left.
How do I even start? “By the way”? No, too direct. “Speaking of ways you can help…” and then maybe “You can start by taking these off my hands”? No. That suits Oliver better than me. Bweh… Why am I hesitating? I have explained syntax errors to children. I have explained mechanical failures to a drunken Fritz. Why is this what makes me hesitate?
Despite all of this thinking, what he actually said was far simpler.
“...I made something.”
Cindy blinked, coming back from wherever she was mentally. “Hm?”
Suddenly, it felt very stupid to give her the flowers. But he'd already started, and had to commit now. Blake felt them stick to his magnets, and she stepped a bit closer. The gesture made him nervous, for a reason he couldn't quite pin down.
Blake found himself unable to keep looking at her, as he held out the metal flowers. He wasn't sure what type he'd tried to make them. Roses? Buttercups? Something like that. He didn't want to see her face in case she was confused or weirded out. Or worse, if she found the gesture laughable.
Cindy looked at what he was holding. A handful of miniature metal flowers, clearly well-made and polished. He made these? Really? For… for her? She gingerly took them from his hand, tugging slightly so they would unstick from the magnetic palms he had.
“You… made these?” She looked at him, her brown eyes analysing every change in expression.
He didn't look at her, and was noticeably flushed. “Yes.”
“For me?”
“...Yes.”
She tried to hide her smile behind the flowers, inspecting them.
“That's so cute.”
Blake thought he'd die on the spot. He'd been called many things. A genius. A prick. Objectively attractive. Gentle. But not cute.
“...They will never wilt.” He added. “I thought- I thought that you might like them because of that. I tried to paint them. It wouldn't stick.” His voice rumbled, gruff with embarrassment.
“Even so, it must have been a lot of effort!” Cindy was beaming.
“Well- yes, but I did not mind it.” Blake's accent was getting more noticeable by the word, and even he seemed to catch on, putting a hand over his mouth.
Cindy stared up at him. This tall, pale, slavic-designed badger man that terrified her brother had made her flowers. Not picked, made. By hand. The thought made her chuckle, which only made the man in front of her blush harder.
“I'm sorry, it's just so sweet! I love them.” She stared at them again, moving them in her hands. “If I had known, I would have gotten you something…”
“This… wasn't meant to be transactional.” Blake said quietly, from behind his hand. “I just wanted to make them for you.”
It was Cindy's turn to blush, but she doubled down. “No I know, but- wait, actually!” She carefully moved the flowers to one hand, and began to untie a pink ribbon on her wrist.
Blake tilted his head, not understanding what she was trying to do.
“Can you hold out a hand?” She asked him, and he did as he was told.
She put the flowers down momentarily, to tie the ribbon around his wrist. She fastened it, and watched him inspect it.
“A bit of colour? How about it? I know it's not much, but this is- so sweet, I don't know how to thank you!”
Blake could feel his brain shutting down.
“Won't the workers at your location notice?”
Cindy waved it off. “I can lie and say a kid took it. They're not gonna know any better! I want you to have it. Fair trade, nah?”
He finally looked her in the eyes again, and she was smiling. Blake felt so small, despite towering over her. He felt a growing heat in his chest, and could hear a fan spinning quicker.
“You're so nervous, am I making you nervous?” She giggled.
“...No.” Yes.
“Then why are you blushing?” Cindy took another step forward, stifling a laugh when Blake looked away.
“I am not.”
“You totally are.”
“It's thermal regulation.”
“It’s making you blush.”
Blake made a low noise akin to a growl, but he didn't seem irritated. Cindy moved a bit of hair from his face, watching him try to compose himself - and fail. She took the flowers back, taking a half-step away to give him space.
“You know, it's kinda funny.” She turned one in between her fingers. “My brother's all scared of you, and you're all embarrassed, hehe!”
“He is… scared of me?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged a little. “Says you want him dead or.. something. I think he thinks you hate him.”
Blake ran a hand through his hair. “Hate is… a strong word. But I don't like him. I think he is smart, but he's… obnoxious.” Obnoxious was the most polite word he could think of.
Cindy snorted. “That's my twin you're talking about!”
“But am I wrong?” Blake shifted, and sat on the workbench.
Cindy hummed. “I better not say.”
She sat next to him, carefully moving tools aside so as to not damage them. She twirled the flowers between her fingers. Blake watched her, scanning for any imperfections in them.
“I would have made them plastic, but our 3d printers are not working properly… another module problem.” Blake mumbled, just loud enough so that she caught it.
“I like them like this.” She hummed. “Tells me that you put a lot of effort into them.”
Cindy leaned against him, listening to a fan whirring in his chest compartment. Blake didn't move to discourage her. Just leaned back enough for his back to touch the wall. The sound of the mechanical and electrical humming mixed well, creating an artificial yet real mix of noise.