Yo. New story that I might also not finish.
But I had to get this out of my head when me and a friend did a mini-RP thing on Gaia.
Sorry for the crap beginning. Something happened and it erased what I had.
Anyway, on to the AU!
Along time ago, he used to believe in miracles. But, of course, that was when he used to walk beside his creator.
The memory of when he first woke up still lingers in his think pan and would bring a smile, albeit empty and broken, to his face. When his indigo glowing eyes first met kind, gray eyes, he was happy. He at first explored the new surroundings with bright eyes of that of a child, touching and observing every little detail of his creators workshop. He even found face paint in the basement and dawn the visage of a clown. When children came to the shop to spy on the old man working, the clown steambot would entertain them with magic and wonders (AnD mIrAcLeS) his creator taught him. They were scared at first, a bot with clown makeup would putt anyone off at first glance, but as the bot kept performing his wonders and magic (AnD mIrAcLeS), and the kids came to love him.
Later, he was given the name Gamzee. And the bot couldn't be happier.
Almost a year after he first walked, the bot finally got the opportunity to go out with his creator in the city of Skaia.
As much as he wanted to go and explore this beautiful city, Gamzee was instructed to stay near the square's fountain, while the old man went to run a few errands. The automaton stayed put, and started to juggle a few indigo balls, really just waiting for his creator to return. Out of no where, a few kids he recognized from the shop, few new children he didn't know, they started to egg him on, shouting at Gamzee to juggle more balls. The clown bot merely cracked a grin. Who was he to deny them his wonders (AnD mIrAcLeS)?
But the time the engineer was finished with his rounds, he found Gamzee stationed in frount of the fountain, a crowd of children and adults alike surrounding him, tossing nearly dozen indigo orbs in his quick copper hands, while said crowd kept cheering. When the old man hesitantly pulled Gamzee away, the crowed booed in disappointment. Gamzee, never one to bring frowns to a crowd of good kids, twirled clapped his hands and releasing three doves with indigo ribbons tied around their necks above the crowd in Skaia's black and white square. The children cheered and Gamzee left with his creator with a smile on his painted face.
This was the reason for his creation. To entertain, to perform, to wow the crowd with magic (AnD mIrAcLeS).
As the years went by, the automaton fell into this comfortable routine. He would mostly stay in the shop, practicing his magic and wonders (AnD mIrAcLeS) by himself, enjoying the sounds of the workshop as his creator worked, or go out in the town, performing his magic (AnD mIrAcLeS) to the masses of Skaia. Gamzee wouldn't have it any other way.
That is, until he found the engineer at the base of the stairs void all life. Gamzee tried with all his might to wake him up, shaking him, pounding his chest, but it was no use. He tried and he tried but his creator could not revive. The clown bot started hammering harder and harder, even when he heard the sickening cracks of the old mans ribs breaking. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to the bot, he stopped. With a sad crack of his voice box, Gamzee left the man on the floor.
The engineer was found a week later by a worried apprentice. Gamzee was in the main room, juggling slowly, sluggishly. The bot felt something grow dim in his chest when the old man's body was carried off.
Gamzee doesn't remember much after that. He pushed the memories to the furthest archives of his think pan. However, he does remembers a stone rock on the ground. The bot would stay there, days on end, not doing anything but juggle and perform tricks to the stone. Apprentices would come by once in a while to check on the lonely steambot, but none tried to pry him from the spot. Eventually, he did go back to the empty shop on his own, and the monochrome streets of Skaia. Eventually he did go back to performing on the streets.
But it just wasn't the same. Not without his creator standing next to him, cheering along with the crowd. Years went by, and Gamzee never felt more alone, despite the cheers emitting from his audience.
Now, nearly 60 years later, he was still alone, still performing on the streets or hide out in the long abandoned workshop. He barely spoke to anyone, merely offering empty smiles and small waves. He was given the nickname "Gamzee, the Miracle Bot", a name that stings his chest and think pan every time someone utters it.
For now he just ignores the pained feelings in his copper chest and kept performing his 'miracles' to the crowd.
Believing in them was a different story.
Sitting in a copper wheelchair on a steam train heading to the capital city of Skaia, a boy named Tavros Nitram fidgets nervously in his seat at the thought of moving from his childhood city to the big capital.
A long time ago, Tavros had hopes and dreams like every other little boy. He would go out and play with the other kids in the golden city of Prospit. He wanted to be a hero, like the ones in his fairy tales or bed time stories his father told him. He was energetic, full of life, and had the world opened to him every time he walked outside his house.
That all came crashing down, though, on a very cloudy day when he was eight years old. He was outside playing with all the other kids like any other normal day. The clouds heavily covered the sky, suggesting rain later in the day, so the kids wanted to play as much as they could outside before it hits.
Tavros was just arriving at the park, is father behind him already chatting with the other parents. As the tan boy was just about to join his friend, Jake English, in another one of his adventures, the park bully, Vriska Serket, grabbed him by the arm and 'asked' him to play. Tavros didn't like playing with her, she was always rough and last time she broke his arm, but Vriska was older, bigger and ultimately, gave him no choice.
The girl lead him away from the park, past the gates, out of the prying eyes of the other children and adults. After a few minutes of struggling and complaining on Tavros' side, she lead him to a cliff overlooking the ocean. The young boy cringed. Vriska dared him to get close to the edge without running away. Tavros flat out refused, and before turning back to the park, the girl started to taunt him. Harsh words flew from her mouth as she degraded his dreams, his friends, his heroes. With an angry face, the boy started to walk to the edge, cautiously. Finally after what seemed like an eternity of slow, careful steps, he reached the edge. He visibly shivered as he braved a glance down at the ocean.
Just as he was about to turn around and gloat at the bully, he felt a pair of hands throw a forceful push.
It was a blur after that, all Tavros could remember was pure fear and the words "Fly, Pupa!" shouted from behind him. All his brain could process was intense pain and a sickening crack before everything became black.
When he woke up, he found himself in a hospital room surrounded by under maintained medic bots going about their business, and his father slumped over the side of his bed, asleep. The first thing the child registered was the absent feeling of his legs. When he tried to pulls over the sheets to investigate, the doctor came in.
The doctor barely even glanced at Tavros before telling him that he broke his spine at the base, and that he may never walk again. It took a few minutes for the boy to realize the how severe the news really was, and drowned any other new the doctor told him with a heavy cry.
It took a seven weeks for the boy to accept his state and the wheelchair. Seven long, horrible, emotional weeks. Labor steambots would come and go, building ramps and making his house easier for him to move around in, while he sat in his room, watching in envy the other kids playing in the park. Tavros could no longer run, jump, and play with the other kids, and his dreams we're crushed like a flower under an oversized brutes foot. When he would go outside, other kids would throw harsh words at him, and, at rare times, pity.
So he stayed in his room, shielded himself from the outside world, immersed in his fantasies and fairy tales. He became sheltered, only emerging from his room when he needed to go to school or run errands when his dad couldn't (which to say isn't much). His old friends would come by once in a while to check on him, and maybe play a few of his games with him, but Tavros would send them away, not wanting them to be burdened by his disabilities or worse- pity Tavros.
He hated it.
This cycle when on for years. Years of the same boring routine, added with self-hatred, until a few days ago when his father announced his new position with Skaia's Elite Calvary Steam Riders and that they will be move to the capital. Tavros knew that his dad wanted this opportunity since he was a kid, and was extremely proud of him. (At least he can achieve his dreams.)
The train ride was bumpy, but the copper locks holding his wheels down absorbed some of the recoil. Tavros couldn't help but spend his ride looking out the window, at the rolling hills and grassy plains of the countryside and sometimes a small village, here and there. Despite the peaceful atmosphere, he couldn't stop himself from flinching every time the capital was mentioned, or even when the train roars. His father would catch wind a couple of times and place a comforting hand on Tavros' shoulder. The young man would simply give his dad a reassuring smile, before taking his eyes back to the window.
Finally, the boy saw the famous black and white fields of the capital, Skaia. Now he shivered. Taking a deep breath, he pried his eyes from the window as he heard the automaton over the speakers talking the passengers through the departure.
Only a few hours in his new home and already Tavros felt a bit queasy. He never liked the aspect of change. His last big one landed him in a wheelchair.
Maneuvering around the labor and maintenance bots, he made his way to the kitchen, hopefully to grab a snack. He probably won't get anything, seeing as they didn't go to the market in the few hours they lived here.
Reaching in the cabinets, his search turned vain as none of them we're stocked. He expected it, but still. Nervous habit, he supposed. Throwing a bored sigh, he moved a out of the kitchen, careful of the labor bot stationed, and explored the house even more.
It wasn't extravagant- it was as standard as any other place should be. As far as government housing goes. His dad was given the place when he got transferred, and it was ready to move in, so he should count his blessings. They would have never gotten a place here otherwise.
Running a hand through his Mohawk, he let out another exasperated sigh. Wheeling to the hallway, he figured he could get some shopping done while his father's out. Leaving a simple order to one of the bots to inform his father of his departure, he took a deep breath and wheeled himself out the front door.
New city, new start, right? The wheelchair boy hoped.
The city was far grander than he could have ever imagined. People come and go, bots are always working on something, kids playing in the square (Tavros had to turn his head away in envy at that), market stalls calling out to the passerby. It was a lot bigger than Prospit could ever be. And that terrified him more than it should.
After a few minutes of taming his nerves, he approached one of the many fruit stands and purchased a few apples and pears for now. He and dad will have to shop more later, this was more for looking around anyway.
With a stuttered 'thank you', the mohawked boy wheeled himself back to the house when something caught his eye. A crowed formed in front of the fountain on his way bac to the house. With a spark of curiosity he decided to approach the cheering crowd. When he wheeled himself to the front (or how far front the could get) he saw te distraction.
A steambot, from what he could tell, was juggling indigo orbs in his hands. And Holy Rufio, they're on fire.
Wheeling back an inch, he observed as the clown painted bot, attired in a simple black shirt and polka-dotted pants, moves his bronze arms fluidly to catch and throws the orbs. This was odd for the boy, normally steam bots moved blocky, due to the lack of joints, but this one moved smoothly, precisely, like it was a human in a copper suit.
At first he was a bit put off by the bot, the face paint wasn't exactly well kept and it's black hair was stuck in multiple directions, matted with grease and oil, and a bit of something green he couldn't identify. But in due time, like the kids, he found himself cheering on the lone clown automaton.
The bot continued it's ministrations as the orbs kept aflame in the air. Soon, the indigo burned away, and as the orbs landed on his hands, no longer in flames, landed in the colors of black and white, the colors of Skaia. Tavros clapped harder and the kids begged for one more trick.
The bot complied and clapped his hands together, orbs still in hand, and when he pulled apart, doves, tied with little indigo ribbons, flew free. Tavros watch as birds flew off in different directions round the square. He smiled and clapped as the kids in front of him roared in approval. After, the kids gather with their parents and left the square, leaving the bot to him self.
Tavros lingered a bit, looking at the bot and before he decided to head back, the bot turned an caught the young wheelchair bound boy. Glowing indigo surrounded with gold met plain brown as the clown gave the boy a smile and a small wave. Tavros turned his head and laughed to himself, blushing slightly. When he turned back, the bot was gone. With a tentative frown he wheeled back to the house.
When he got back nearly a half-hour later, he spotted one of the very doves the automaton released, still tied with an indigo ribbon, perched on his roof, cooing without a care in the world. Tavros smiled to himself.
Maybe this city won't be so bad.
Again, I may not finish.
Because I have the attention span of a toddler.
Besides, I have no Idea how to continue it.