Title: Welcome, Welcome
Summary: Decorate, correlate, decorate, nest. M-O really has to consider making his new home prettier. One-shot.
Warning: Fluff-puff-McStuffings. Enough to choke the plot-bunny this came from.
Disclaimer: I own no rights to this glorious Disney/Pixar movie.
The color of shadow at the end of a long day, made all the more beautiful with the trim of pigment that was similar to the underside of a newly grown plant leaf. M-O glanced around the finished architecture that would from now on be his own home to do with as he wished; over two-hundred and some squares of the garbage WALL-E had accumulated through his years as Earth's singular remaining clean-up bot, all slightly melted so that they melded into a configured place to provide shelter from rain, snow, strong dust storms, and of course, a place to recharge after a long day of helping re-colonize the humans. It was similar in design to WALL-E's (and now EVE's) home in exterior, except that it had more of a cone roof, save for the point at the end of many cones (he needed a place to sit and reboot with the aid of the sun now that most of the other robots had been given a solar energy back-up program in case of emergencies).
Consideration over things never thought of before by computer kind, except by a particular savior of humanity. The little cleaning-bot, however, did live within the same radius of the garbage-bot that he now considered (after finally deleting most of the programming that constantly brought up the signal 'ForeignContaminant' that had driven him near malfunction the first five weeks on Earth) his first and best friend; that way if he had a question while helping out the humans and other bots (everyone more or less were now a part of Earth's further clean-up, because WALL-E, though resilient after such a long time alone, needed help clearing areas more probable to produce healthy and nourishing plant vegetation) look through the trash, scavenging for anything useful, WALL-E would always be near at hand.
Hesitation, though not prolonged for more than the time it took M-O to jump from his light line back in the beginning of knowing WALL-E and EVE. Moving into his new home, M-O's yellow eyes looked over the fourteen shopping carts he had welded to the walls, with the help of HAN-S a few days ago, considering. They were empty, save for two. He had loaded one (welded near the floor and some of the wires dented inwards, giving it the appearance of a large beehive he had observed by accident when helping out Captain McCrea while he was researching Earth) with big pieces of differently colored cotton he had found all over the trash sights (in pillows, fluffy and white like clouds on good days; falling out of sofa cushions that had been shredded centuries ago, yellow and dusty to touch; inside the bodies of many old toys, synthetic and not bio-degradable reds, greens, blues, black) and covered with what once might have been a dish towel (tassels of purple at one end, the other end showing the damage of fire, the texture rough and the rest of the coloring a little like the PR-T bot that seemed to like following HAN-S around), to make up his bed when he recharged. The other was stuffed with every last tool for cleaning he could find (a broom made of old Blackwood and hay with the stick cut down where its middle must have been, a hand-held vacuum that he'd scavenged for days to find the right part so it would work again, four mops that he adored using on the half-abandoned Axiom, two feather dusters that VN-GO liked to use when he came over to tickle his face with, and finally a little tube made up of pink fabric with little loops that EVE had taken off something that looked rather like M-O's own roller and, for a show of fun, had once fitted onto his wheel—to which he had hugged her for revealing that now, whenever he was on the Axiom and headed somewhere, he could with both of his ends) and still use, held in a vase made of four car tires.
WALL-E had told him he should decorate; make the place more like a home. M-O honestly didn't know how to do that seeing as his last homes had been in the rotating shelf of WALL-E's right next to Hal, and before that the storage cabinet with the others of the cleaning crew whenever the EVE model probes came back from visiting Earth (that place, really, he had not liked in the least).
The cleaning bot gave an electronic sigh and twitched as thunder echoed with the crashing of lightning outside. Somehow, he had a vague vision of the days following where he would be screaming at every imprint of a tread in mud and a puddle of water accumulated in a once polished nook and cranny, but tried to put it out of his mind as he thought of the string he had stored away that he intended earlier to weave around his sleeping spot like WALL-E had described as spiders made for their webs.
He intended to make it pretty. It would keep his urge to clean at bay for the time being.