Red let out an impatient sigh. It had been three days, and he had already begun to long for when the bloody tin can would come wobbling down the ladder with his plate of mush. If he was being honest with himself, he was very frustrated that he had broken so quickly. He thought he would have been able to last weeks without looking forward to the gifts from Gearborn.
Then again, it wasn't like he longed for the sticky slop that they mistakenly labeled food. He just longed for someone to talk to. The Gearborn weren't exactly chatty. So, he had to make the most of it when the gunk-delivery service made a showing.
He stared from his cot at the port side window. The thin trickle of light was now a beam illuminating an area in the cell like a spotlight. It was late morning, and his mush should have arrived hours ago. Red should have known better than to count down the seconds. The Gearborn seemed to forget about him every morning, and his, well, not food, arrived at different times each day. Unfortunately, today was taking a lot longer than usual.
It was so frustrating. Couldn't they see that he was desperate for the delivery now? Well, actually, they couldn't see…and maybe that was the point. Maybe they just totally forgot about him today. That would be something. It would, unfortunately, mean he couldn't explore more of the ship without risking being caught.
When the latch finally clicked, Red nearly leapt to his feet.
"Deep breaths, you imbecile," He grumbled.
He patiently waited, or tried to at the very least. In the far distance, Red could hear the familiar creaking of the tin can climbing down the ladder into the ship's hull. Twiddling his thumbs, Red absently stared at the ceiling as he listened to the creaking of approaching footsteps on the loose floorboards.
For a pristine Gearborn ship, they clearly didn't understand the importance of presentation. If you want your ship to look menacing, then the whole thing needs to look menacing, not just the outside.
Red leaned against the wall opposite the cell door. It was probably close to midday at this point, but his room was still mostly in gloomy darkness. Unfortunately, the entire interior of the ship was like this. He was fairly certain that the Gearborn must have been able to see in the dark or, at the very least, in places with almost no illumination. It was probably something that most people already knew. The Gearborn were the Valencians' enemies after all. Not that he really cared.
A figure stepped into the gloomy lighting. Red calmly stared at the Gearborn, taking in its tall stature. It was the same one that always brought him food, so he already knew what to expect. He still ran the description through his head again. This Gearborn had a human body with normalish human clothing. Its clothing was definitely not meant to be fashionable. Everything the Gearborn wore was brown.
A brown coat wrapped around a brown tunic that hung over tight brown pants. Red couldn't help but shake his head. Gearborn always seemed to be under the impression that they were invulnerable. Why else would they be dumb enough to walk around wearing nothing but cloth protection? Well, Red didn't know many Gearborn, so it might just have been this one, but it still was a bit ridiculous.
Greatest armada in the seven seas, it was said, and they couldn't even invest a little into their fashion industry.
Red's eyes landed on the face of the Gearborn, if it could even be called that. After seeing some of the Gearborn a few days prior, he was certain that the more powerful the robot, the more it resembled humans. The weaker grunts like this one didn't have anything going for them.
Two hollow red eyes stared out of holes in the creature's head. They didn't show any emotion, and neither did the rest of its white head. There was no mouth because what need would a robot have for lips?
There was no nose on the tin can either. Only holes for eyes and an empty white slate. It might have been creepy to some, but Red found it hilarious that, despite not having facial features, the robot could still show emotions. He wasn't sure how it did it, but this blank white slate somehow still managed to do it every time.
Well, if you could call it human-like emotions. Most of them revolved around mediocre stoicism and demented fury. Red only knew one thing: telling the insane Gearborn to calm down did not help it calm down in the slightest.
"If you do not wish to eat your meal, then I will leave," The Gearborn's voice grinded out of a rusty voice box in its head behind where the mouth should have been.
Red blinked; he hadn't realized he was standing there staring at the tin can for so long.
"Oh, it would be my pleasure to take that off your hands," He pushed off the wall and approached the cell door.
Red watched as the Gearborn slowly began opening the locked door. It took the bloody Gearborn longer to do it than he could with a spoon.
"So, why are you late today, Alpha? I thought you lot were supposed to be better than humans. How come you haven't learned basic courteous manners yet?"
The Gearborn paused and looked at him coldly; his own face remained impassive.
"We have no need for manners to you, inferior. We have no need for your foolish practice of eating. It is for peasants like you!" The Gearborn attempted to sound menacing, but his voice creaked as he spoke, making it sound like a squeaking door.
Red bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, then with a passive tone replied, "You say you don't eat, but don't you lot need like oil refills? Surely, you need plenty of grease to keep that rough-and-tough body in action. What do you call that?"
A low growl escaped from the Alpha's throat, and his eyes seemed to grow an even more furious red. Red might have been scared if he didn't know that the captain had instructed that he not be harmed. Besides, if this crazed madman, well, madrobot, thought he would just let himself get beaten, then he had another thing coming. He would love to get his hands on another Gearborn core.
"I will not engage with an inferior monkey. You have no value. You are worth nothing. You are nothing," the last words came out like escaping steam.
Red raised an eyebrow, "Well, you are down here feeding me, so what does that say about you?"
The door suddenly swung open with a crash. Red leapt backwards to avoid the swinging hunk of metal. Before he could react, the Gearborn's hand clenched around his throat, slamming him into the wall with a crunch. He grunted, but stared the creature down even as it choked the air from his lungs. Neither of them noticed the tray crash to the floor behind them.
He managed a weak smile and rasped, "What do you want, a kiss?"
All he got in response was the feeling of crushing power about to shatter his neck. If not for the natural enhancements that came from having mist in his body, he'd likely already have collapsed.
With a croak, he sputtered, "What would…your boss…say?"
"He would say a despicable inferior like you had it coming." Despite these words, the Gearborn released him.
Before Red could catch himself, the door to his cell slammed shut, and the Gearborn was gone. He sagged to the floor and tried to let out a laugh. A choked cough escaped his lips instead.
Well damn, that could have gone better. He had hoped to have a little bit more time before Alpha lost his cool. Rubbing his bruised neck, Red glanced at where the tray had fallen to the floor. Luckily, it seemed like most of the gunk had survived the altercation.
He didn't move for a while aside from lightly massaging his neck. The mist in his body drained much faster than he would have liked as he forced it into his neck. He wasn't a healer, but this simple action would still greatly help with the pain.
Red crawled to where the tray had fallen and let out a ragged sigh. Now that he could finally swallow again, he needed to eat fast. The mush tasted much better warm, which meant it still tasted like sludge, but at least it went down easier. He picked his spoon up from the floor and slowly took a bite. The flavor made him want to gag, but after a few days of the stuff, he had almost gotten used to it.
Almost.
As the first bite slid down his throat, he let out an angry curse, "Damn it. Why does it seem like that bloody tin can got the last laugh?"