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The intercom crackled, and Deathstar's voice echoed through the warehouse.
“[IT'S A D*UBLE TR*UBLE R*UND UP NEXT. UNIT FUTURE AND UNIT N*VEMBER, Y*U HAVE BEEN DISPATCHED.]”
The intercom crackled off, and Futuristic came out of their room (or “sector,” as Deathstar insists it be called) adjusting their jetpack's antenna. They spot Turkeydroid in the corner, sitting on the floor and playing a card game with AwesomeDroid, and quickly clear their throat.
“[hey turkey, ya hear that announcement? they said unit november. that means you. you gotta do this round with me.]”
Turkeydroid cranes his neck to look up at Futuristic with confusion, tilting its head. He wasn't ever chosen for a round, let alone a Double Trouble one. He hesitates before pointing at himself, sitting upright. Futuristic just nods their head and pokes Turkeydroid in the chest.
“[c'mon, man. when was the last time you got outta the warehouse? this oughta be a nice change o' pace for ya.”]
Turkeydroid looks back at AwesomeDroid, who gives him a thumbs up, before looking back at Futuristic and quickly standing up, brushing himself off.
“[that's the spirit ya dweeb. now c'mon.]“
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They arrive at Tundra Trench, and Turkeydroid is hugging his own body to try and conserve heat. Futuristic however, doesn't notice, and immediately gets to work killing off civilians. Turkeydroid mostly stays behind, setting up killbots where he can and occasionally firing at a stray civilian. Futuristic notices the lack of participation and calls out to him.
"[hey punk, ya mind helping me out a bit over here?! it's a double trouble round, remember? it ain't just me doing all the damage!]"
Turkeydroid grips the handles of his launchers and trudges towards Futuristic, who blows a civilian's head smooth off. The two slowly kill off the remaining civilians, with Futuristic doing most of the work. With the last civilian cornered, Futuristic blasts a hole right through their chest. At that moment, Turkeydroid passes out a fair distance away from them, landing on the snow below at the same time as the now dead civilian.
"[sheesh, that was a round. maybe i won't bring you along next time if you won't-]"
Futuristic turns around to scold Turkeydroid, only to find him out cold (haha.) on the ground. They gasp and run towards his body, picking it up and slightly shivering from how cold he is, even feeling it through their armor. They kick their jetpack into (metaphorical) overdrive and floor it back to the warehouse.
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Back at the warehouse, Futuristic wastes no time to discuss the round with the other droids, and instead bolts towards their own room, kneeing the door open and setting Turkeydroid down on their bed. They quickly toss their armor off and rest their fingers on his wrist, checking for a pulse. It's weak, but it's there, and if it's there, he's alive. Futuristic pulls their blanket over Turkeydroid before slinking out of their room. What they didn't expect, however, was MLGdroid standing right outside.
"['SUP FUTURE. WUT'S THE HURRY? GOT SOMEWHERE 2 BE?]"
Futuristic flinches, but realizes who they got scared by, and groans.
"[hi mlg. no, in fact, i would rather stay here.]"
"[Y? U WANNA STOP [cough] STOP BY AND SMOKE SOME WEED WITH ME? IS DAT WUT'S UP?]"
"[dude, no. pass. hard pass, actually. turkey's passed out and he is freezing cold to the touch. i'm just trying to figure out some way to help him.]"
"[OH. LMAO. Y DIDN'T U JUST [cough] SAY SO EARLIER? I CAN HELP.]"
"[...wh- what? you? help? mlg, in what world am i gonna-]"
MLGdroid scoots Futuristic out of the way of the door and invites himself inside, moving his headset so he can toss the joint he was smoking through his ventilation system beforehand outside the room.
"[CHILLAX, FUTURE. I'M NOT GONNA [cough] HOTBOX HIM. I KNOW WUT I'M DOING.]"
"[gh- mind explaining then?!]"
MLGdroid unzips his hoodie and shrugs it off of his shoulders, letting fall to the ground.
"[JUST TRUST THE PROCESS.]"
It sits down, carefully picks up Turkeydroid off of the bed, and hugs him, pressing him against its body. MLGdroid internally tries overloading his own system with server requests, causing his external temperature to rise, indicated by his fans gradually becoming louder. Futuristic finally catches onto what it's doing, and starts to worry.
"[um- mlg, are you sure you can-]"
"[IF I WASN'T SURE, I WOULDN'T BE DOING IT.]"
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After a little while of contact, and to Futuristic's surprise, Turkeydroid starts to shift in MLGdroid's clutch, lifting his arms to hug it back.
"[SEE, FUTURE? TOLD U [cough] TOLD U IT WAS GONNA WORK.]"
"[i... suppose you were right. although, for your own sake, do you mind... stopping? i don't want you overheating.]"
MLGdroid tilts its head back to look at Turkeydroid.
"[U GUD, SON?]
Turkeydroid nods, fluttering his wings slightly. MLGdroid lets go of him, and stops the internal requests so his body temperature can go back down. Futuristic walks towards the two and kneels next to MLGdroid.
"[hey... um... thanks for... helping. for practically saving his life.]"
"[IT'S NOTHING. THX 4 LETTING ME DO DIS IN THE 1ST PLACE.]"
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Futuristic and MLGdroid help escort Turkeydroid back to his room, and they both give a little wave as he shuts the door.
"[again, thanks for helping me out. though, no offense... but you would've been the last guy i went to.]"
"[LMAO. NO, I GET IT 100%. I [cough] JUST SO HAPPENED 2 BE THERE WHEN IT HAPPENED.]"
The two stand facing Turkeydroid's door in silence for a little while.
"[...U WANNA BLAZE IT NOW?]"
"[what the hell, sure.]"
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