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How To Maintain Your Mecha-Bitch: A Mechanic's Guide by ALCatLover
Fandoms: Dispatch (Video Game)
11 Jul 2026
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Summary
There's a glow of dim light coming from the otherwise dark apartment. In the center of the concrete floor, Robert is sitting criss-cross in his boxers and a tank top, the light of Alice's posable lamp centered on his arm, faint shadows of tools and containers and a roll of paper towels scattered around in reach.
Robert's arm doesn't look normal. It still has vague texture, an idea of what a human's skin should look like, but now it's rendered in silver from the elbow down. Metallic.
A seam has opened, at the hinge of the inner elbow held in his lap. It gleams wetly in iridescent black, drawing Chad's eye even from across the room and through glass, like the same wavering effect of those images of black holes, sucking in light so hard that it can't escape.
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Bookmark Notes:
[incomprehensible shrieking]
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Work Details
How To Maintain Your Mecha-Bitch: A Mechanic's Guide by ALCatLover
Part 12 of just some dispatch stories and oneshots (with a focus on Robert Robertson the III)Series Information:
ID: 5470141
Words: 134,013 | Works: 12 | Complete: No | Bookmarks: 16
Description:Some members of the cast grabbed me by the throat, okay. Robert’s everyman swag got to me.
That and the fact he's like if Comic Spider-Man, Iron Man, and Batman were thrown together and then promptly got their asses kicked into the Worm universe with no goddamn money. And I got a couple ideas.
If the ideas seem weird, sue me. I'm used to being in fandoms left without new content for so long we've started growing a mold culture. Each work should be considered as unrelated to each other, unless I make clear it's otherwise.
All my works in the Dispatch fandom will be posted to this series, so if you're only interested in dispatch, subscribe here, not my user.
Published: 2026-07-11
Work ID: 88340271Relationship Tags:
Work Summary:
There's a glow of dim light coming from the otherwise dark apartment. In the center of the concrete floor, Robert is sitting criss-cross in his boxers and a tank top, the light of Alice's posable lamp centered on his arm, faint shadows of tools and containers and a roll of paper towels scattered around in reach.
Robert's arm doesn't look normal. It still has vague texture, an idea of what a human's skin should look like, but now it's rendered in silver from the elbow down. Metallic.
A seam has opened, at the hinge of the inner elbow held in his lap. It gleams wetly in iridescent black, drawing Chad's eye even from across the room and through glass, like the same wavering effect of those images of black holes, sucking in light so hard that it can't escape.
(Approximate) Last Read: 2026/07/12