Post by C3 on Feb 11, 2014 6:46:46 GMT
Becoming lost was starting to become a habit for him, even back at his own time... or world? He ended up lost. It was useless to even carry around a map since he didn't understand how to read it; well he did but he never really cared to remember when to check it. That was something he'd have to break himself of, this time however instead of trying to figure out the city he managed to come across where all of the factories ran. The large factories belched out thick black smoke which moved upwards and filled the sky with it's dark color. He stood there staring upwards, as if watching for some sort of sludge or something horrifying to come from the factories, those that ran of course.
The factories were like home, large and working except his home was a warehouse repaired after time and time again by his mother... His creator, she would work her hands to the bone to keep it in tip top shape. Soon he realized there was a feeling of loneliness writing it's way across his heart, and homesickness soon followed. Curiously C3 strolled towards one of the factories the sounds of machines clanking and moving danced through his mind. One couldn't help but wonder if those parts of machinery were alive, the way it played it's own oddly enough calming song that made him want to listen for hours.
It would be strange to consider such sounds heavenly, but for him it was like listening to an Opera that was just beginning slowly steadily reaching the ending point when the audience would cheer and clap. There was no clapping, no cheering. There sure wasn't an audience to listen with him, just the large factories and the sounds... This city was strange, hardly anyone was around, when he first woke up he found it odd, interesting, perhaps even frightening at the same time. Yet here... Here he felt at peace oddly enough, perhaps this is where he should stay around perhaps there was an abandoned factory that he could hide away in.. Look at all of the lifeless lackluster machines that stopped running from the mundane life style of being used to the breaking point.
C3 had made up his mind and allowed his feet to carry him towards a factory somewhere far off in a short distance that seemed to be broken and left without a purpose much like himself. Rust and dents, pieces of the building broken and shattered upon the ground. This seemed like a lovely little place to hide around at for the most part, until he was able to finally comprehend where he was and for what reason. Carefully he entered the abandoned factory, taken back in awe at how run down it seemed. Now he knew the machines were lifeless and lacked the beautiful luster of glistening clean metal. Dirty and filthy, rusting and rotting... He felt empathy for these forgotten pieces of work, these creations that were left by those... Machines- Robots he had seen before. This whole city was filled with them wasn't it?
They had a purpose though, to keep things functioning... As well as keeping the streets and such clean. But this place had lost it's long lived purpose only to become a fading memory that drifted away with the coming of winds, or a painting left to gain dust; age with the weather. The oils dripping down the canvas, smearing whatever heavenly image that was once there. Leaving behind muddled colors not meant to be mixed with each other; thus creating an image to ones mind that was displeasing and easily forgotten.
C3 stumbled towards one machine, reaching his hand out to gently touch the metal that felt cold beneath his finger tips. Yes, he had decided this would defiantly be his hiding place. Although the question rose to his mind, would someone find him here, or perhaps... Maybe, someone else came here before him? Unsure he'd take a look around; becoming curious and craving to find some sort of discovery which would help his mind rest from the deep urge for knowledge that would plague him once in a long while.
The factories were like home, large and working except his home was a warehouse repaired after time and time again by his mother... His creator, she would work her hands to the bone to keep it in tip top shape. Soon he realized there was a feeling of loneliness writing it's way across his heart, and homesickness soon followed. Curiously C3 strolled towards one of the factories the sounds of machines clanking and moving danced through his mind. One couldn't help but wonder if those parts of machinery were alive, the way it played it's own oddly enough calming song that made him want to listen for hours.
It would be strange to consider such sounds heavenly, but for him it was like listening to an Opera that was just beginning slowly steadily reaching the ending point when the audience would cheer and clap. There was no clapping, no cheering. There sure wasn't an audience to listen with him, just the large factories and the sounds... This city was strange, hardly anyone was around, when he first woke up he found it odd, interesting, perhaps even frightening at the same time. Yet here... Here he felt at peace oddly enough, perhaps this is where he should stay around perhaps there was an abandoned factory that he could hide away in.. Look at all of the lifeless lackluster machines that stopped running from the mundane life style of being used to the breaking point.
C3 had made up his mind and allowed his feet to carry him towards a factory somewhere far off in a short distance that seemed to be broken and left without a purpose much like himself. Rust and dents, pieces of the building broken and shattered upon the ground. This seemed like a lovely little place to hide around at for the most part, until he was able to finally comprehend where he was and for what reason. Carefully he entered the abandoned factory, taken back in awe at how run down it seemed. Now he knew the machines were lifeless and lacked the beautiful luster of glistening clean metal. Dirty and filthy, rusting and rotting... He felt empathy for these forgotten pieces of work, these creations that were left by those... Machines- Robots he had seen before. This whole city was filled with them wasn't it?
They had a purpose though, to keep things functioning... As well as keeping the streets and such clean. But this place had lost it's long lived purpose only to become a fading memory that drifted away with the coming of winds, or a painting left to gain dust; age with the weather. The oils dripping down the canvas, smearing whatever heavenly image that was once there. Leaving behind muddled colors not meant to be mixed with each other; thus creating an image to ones mind that was displeasing and easily forgotten.
C3 stumbled towards one machine, reaching his hand out to gently touch the metal that felt cold beneath his finger tips. Yes, he had decided this would defiantly be his hiding place. Although the question rose to his mind, would someone find him here, or perhaps... Maybe, someone else came here before him? Unsure he'd take a look around; becoming curious and craving to find some sort of discovery which would help his mind rest from the deep urge for knowledge that would plague him once in a long while.
