No Lives Left.

Wires spilled out of Game's wall like someone’s intestines. The rug was black with stains when it should have been white. A fan was suspended above Game's head by three small wires. A cluttered mess of discarded items rested on the rug. Piles of meticulously organized screws, nuts, bolts and corks lay in front of him, and the dissected carcass of what had been a sentry robot rested in his hands. Mechanical and soulless eyes stared at the gears, his mind working them into place. A curtain of hair threatened to cloud his vision. His back was hunched over his work; there was no enthusiasm to his movements, no sense of joy or excitement. It might have been hours, minutes or even a day, but his stiff and frigid stance had not changed once.

He didn’t feel sad, and he didn’t feel angry. He had worked out all of those emotions a long time ago, he felt… burned out. Like a flicker of a flame dying out in a frosty wasteland. Adailia was gone. Game twisted a bolt into place, his face frozen into a thousand yard stare, truth be told, he was light years away. It was all too easy for Game to discern that Adailia hadn’t made it. And any doubts left were vaporized just like the dying orb, Sigma. He had failed. That word. Failure. It was always there in front of him. He would always fall short of his goal, leaving his companions to die for him, because of his failure. In his head, an ocean of guilt and defeat swirled. What was the point in it all anymore? If people could just have their lives thrown away and be forgotten so easily…

In the future he had predicted, he hadn’t sensed that this would be the outcome of the Evoknights defeat. That he would end up on this space station with the faces of enemies blending in with those of friends.

OOC: Cooper’s World – Squarepusher, merci beaucoup.
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Yang trudged up to this 'Alpha' Zone. It made him just a hint aggravated that, as he went up, the tiered levels got nicer. It kind of made him want to blow something up to gain recognition... But that was the thinking of an attention-starved five-year-old. He didn't linger on the thought and kept going.

Finally he reached Game's room. Come to think of it, he hadn't really spoken to the kid since that Christmas party that happened two lifetimes ago. On Varsia it was like... Survival interacting. Press the 'A' button to skip past all the lecture BS. Geez. When did he become such a pessimist?
Yang lifted his fist and knocked heavily on the door, knowing full-well Game's tendency to be doing something else that took all his attention.

((Good heaven that failed so bad. >>))

Game stopped in mid-thought. His sunken eyes flickered to the door, the door itself crumpled inward like a paper ball, the grating noise of churning steel was almost music to his ears. He didn't bother to turn around. The robots head drooped to the side turning its golden eyes to glare at Yang. "Hello." Game murmured, his voice sharp enough to cut through the omnipotent gloom of the room. Wires whipped like the rattlers on a snake, tightening like the muscles in the body around a bone. The frayed circuits stuck out at odd ends, but were sealed tight as levitating metallic tiles sprung up from the floor detaching themselves with a muffled crack. "I know you want something from me... They always want something from me." He growled the plates zipped into position, assembling like the pieces of a puzzle and covering the four appendages of the robots body. Game rose to a knee and turned around, staring at Yang with an intimidating stare. "Do you miss her?"

Yang's eyes didn't widen at the door's antics. Game was known to do this kind of stuff. He stepped into the room, his hand resting on the light-blue, glowing computer chip in his pocket. He'd come up here to give Game something... At the completely sci-fi-look his room had taken on he paused, glancing at the yellow-eyed robot that looked at him. Then at Game. "Hey." he said flatly. At the grumbled complaint, he resisted the urge to snicker. "It seems that way, doesn't it...?" he asked quietly, sighing. Then he blinked, the first hint of surprise lighting his eyes. He looked down. "Of course I do." he growled slightly. So many people had died on Sigma... But the death that had affected him most was Yin's.

"Of course you miss her she was your twin I keep forgetting because you're both so..." he thought for a second, watching as Yang dropped his gaze, "Different. Yin and Yang." He muttered the last part, repeating the final phrase, steadily lowering his voice as he did. Game paused for a second, his mouth hanging open as he processed thoughts buzzing in his head. Yang wanted something, it was in the tone of his voice, and the way he had seemed so straightforward before, like he was only here for a single reason. "This isn't a friendly visit, is it?" Game muttered. He stood shakily to his feet, thousands of needles prickled his legs that felt like dead weight. Game's eyes narrowed into slits, and he stretched a hand out toward Yang, and a made a quick motion almost like flicking a coin. A magnetic pulse flew at Yang, though he most likely wouldn't feel it, only a tug throughout his entire body.

Yang would rise instantly, clinging to the ceiling like a refrigerator magnet. "What is that? In your pocket..." Game cocked his head to the left and looked at Yang with a dazed expression.

Yang looked up at him again, his eyes dulling with memories. Ah, great. He'd gone and made him think of her, again... It was be painful to go to sleep tonight, because he'd dream of all their good times together. When they used to play and dance and sing together...
He snapped to attention at the next statement, and grunted when he was lifted and pressed against the ceiling. What the heck? Seriously?

"Something I found that I thought you'd be interested in," he said in slight irritation, fishing the chip out. It was only about an inch and a half wide and long, filled with colorful shades of blue. It seemed to glow with unnatural energy, pulsating in Yang's hand. He tossed it at Game.

The microchip bounced off of Game's head but he stared up at Yang with a scowl. Game let his hands drop to his sides and simultaneously released Yang from his magnetic attraction with the ceiling. Game turned his back on the boy, that was more or less a sign to leave his room, or stay and end up like the door. Game plucked the chip up with one hand, turning it over with definite uncertainty. He had seen tons of chips like this with the same basic configuration, it was nothing new, and at best it bored him. The most he could do with it was scrub it of information and probably wind up with his head filled with insignificant details about some cooking recipe. Game pocketed the device glumly. "Do you..." Game began quietly, not taking his eyes off of his new study, the robot. "Still feel like she's there? Like her ghost is trying to talk to you, but... There's like a wall between both of you and nothing you can do can ever break it?"

Yang couldn't help but give a strangled yelp when he fell face-first to the floor. He sat up, rubbing his face gingerly. Then he glared at Game, getting up and dusting himself off. He was turning when the question stopped him. He sighed sadly. "I used to. Now she's just... Gone." He left with that, not wanting any more painful memories to be stirred.

The chip, however, was quite stationary. At the technopath's touch, the energy seemed to amplify, as if trying to convey something.

It was okay here, in Station Two. Truth be told, there wasn't much difference between her old room and her new one. Two people to a room. Decent, a little small, but cozy enough. No windows. And to make it more personal, her little robot sat at the furthest corner of her bed. And truth be told, she was indifferent to the moving. She was used to traveling. But despite the similarities, nothing was the same. So much had happened, too much. Her roommate, and the one she'd recently turned to for friendship and guidance, was none other than Adailia Jones, one of the many who'd died protecting their friends. Their home, their planet. Too many lives sacrificed for the sake of what became no more than a hunk of charred, disintegrating rock.

Kaira leaned against her bed, sitting on the floor with one leg up, slightly bent. For a few moments, she just sat in that position with her eyes closed, letting herself drift off. Her mother, gone. Father? Gone. Adailia, gone. Usagi-kun... Kaira opened her eyes, a humorless smile lifting the corners of her lips. The world had ended - again - and she was thinking about a plush bunny. She tucked her knees closer to her body, wrapping her arms around them. As she did, a strange tingle washed over her hands, and something soft brushed her fingertips. With a gasp, she dropped her legs. Sitting on the floor in front of her was her beloved Usagi-kun. She bit her lip. "You shouldn't be here," her voice sounded odd, foreign. When had been the last time she used it? When she'd talked to Game over that strange robot contraption of his? "If anyone should be here, it should be A-Ad-dailia," she stumbled over her deceased friend's name. "Why isn't she here?"

The little white rabbit sat there, providing no answer to the question that seemed to linger in the air. Kaira blew out a breath, steadying herself. Of course she didn't expect an answer. With that, she picked up the little rabbit and stood up, stumbling a bit. "I miss you," She whispered before drawing two fingers over his floppy ears. Slowly, the doll vanished, a shimmering fog enveloping him, first engulfing his ears, then working its way down his head, his body, his feet. It met Kaira's hands with another light tingle, then disappeared just as the doll had.

Kaira brushed back her hair. Once, it had gone all the way down to her waist - she'd cut it all off at some point during or after the attack on Sigma. It was now brutal and ragged, framing her small face, barely brushing her shoulders. She stole a glance in the mirror, her violet eyes peered out from under her jagged sweep bangs. They looked sad and lost; isn't that how she felt? Something was gnawing at her, threatening to swallow her whole. She had to get out of that room before she suffocated. So, allowing her thoughts to wander, she took a right and started walking. Her train of thought seemed to like one station in particular; Adailia. So it couldn't have been coincidence when her feet led her all the way from her humble home in the Yellow Zone all the way up to the Black Zone, to Game's room. He had been close to Adailia. Maybe even closer. They'd gone through so much together, the Len thing and all. Her death must have struck him hard. She glanced around. The Black Zone had it much nicer than she did. With all of Game's grief to compensate for, she figured he deserved it. But it was obvious that all the luxuries in the world would never amount to the loss of a loved one.

"You miss her, don't you?" She asked suddenly, one hand on the door frame. She studied his figure, the way he was slightly hunched. He seemed shut down, just standing there. She wondered what was going on in his mind.

ooc: Uh. Welcome back, Kaira? :DD

Game spun around the moment he heard the voice. His eyes narrowed, and fists clenched, for a tense second he glared at the girl, until he registered who this was. Elkaira. Saying that Game was on the edge didn't cut it he felt like he was dangling on a tightrope. Game felt his whole body relax, he sighed, forcing himself to feel calm. He glanced down at the modified robot, its build was bulkier than anything he had constructed before, it looked similar to a Medieval suit of armor, manufactured with sleek steel that bent at odd angles to contort into its humanoid form. Wires and pipes intertwined like muscle tissue, amplifying its realism. Game's gaze animated the droid, its jerky movements looked more like spasms, it sputtered, a slight spark blooming in its single eye before it collapsed again.

He didn't answer Kaira's question, in fact he completely ignored it. He rose from his crouch with a grim expression. "She's gone. Dead and killed. I barely even think about her anymore." he spat through clenched feet. Game folded his arms across his chest, and glared at Kaira like a pouting child. Why would she even ask him something like that? Of course he missed her, didn't she? He couldn't be the only person that thought of her sacrifice as senseless, that she should be with them right now instead of scattered across the universe as dust.

Game's reaction startled her, but she stood her ground, watching as his offensive stance ebbed into something calmer. He didn't even look at her after that, just stared down at whatever he was building; a robot or something. Or maybe the empty shell of one. It seemed just as shut down as its creator. She was once again surprised when she saw it twitch with small popping sounds, then collapsed as if even a small movement such as that had worn it out.

Kaira took a tentative step into the room, as if there were bombs laid into the bits of metal strewn around the room and jutting out of the walls. As she leaned on the dusty frame, the boy stood up, responding bitterly to her question. Not really an answer, but a response all the same. And finally, he looked up at her, a glare tinged with anguish. She met his gaze levelly, keeping her arms beside her. This Game looked so vulnerable, so young, so different from the once confident and aloof boy she'd once known him as. Painful events had aged him and given him more than his fair share of loss and grief.

"I think about her all the time," she admitted, taking another glance around the room. "She was my roommate. And she saved me. You said you don't think about her, but don't you wonder if things could have turned out differently?" She finally shifted her gaze back to him. This was the question she'd asked herself when they'd reached the station. She'd wondered what would have happened if she had disobeyed her friend's orders and had gone with her instead. She would never had talked to Game via the robot he'd made for her, and she could have helped Adailia. Or could she have? Maybe they would have both died. Then she'd wondered what death would have been like. Probably more peaceful than the turmoil going on here.

It was almost frightening how her eyes stared at him, almost like she was pitying him, it only made him feel cripple, barely clinging to the life he had. What would she look like if he brought her down to his level? He blinked away the thought, and readjusted his evil eye back at her. "I don't have to wonder if things had turned out differently. I know." Experiences that seemed like a million years ago returned to his mind, he could picture the world BRS had showed him almost perfectly, it had been embedded into his mind ever since that day. World of deserts and skulls, marched over by the reptilian soldiers known as the Evoknights. He hadn't realized that Adailia had possibly saved the human race until now, not Black Rock Shooter. "You'd be dead, I'd be dead, we'd all be dead."

Another spear of life struck the cadaver machine in a more subtle form this time. A low whirring sounded as each gear and servo clicked into place, it's fingers cracked into a fist, as stiff as stone. Game pivoted to get a better look at his creation, his Frankenstein. It climbed to its feet like a newborn child. It was easily two feet bigger than Game, and three times as wide. The Goliath automatons head hung low, as sparks rained down its clunky frame. Game turned his head back to Kaira, his eyes blank and lost, mimicking the spiritless body of his monster. "You..." he caught himself before he said 'I'. "Have to learn to let the past go. Out with the old, and in with the new." It took all of his Game's strength to get the words out, grimacing back the tears.

This time, Kaira was ready for his reaction, and didn't flinch when he once again sent her the stink eye. "Is that why you're looking at me like that? Like all this is my fault?" She didn't question how he knew; she figured it was a figure of speech, that in his gut he "knew" what would have happened. She gestured outwards, into the infinite openness that was space, where Sigma was floating around aimlessly. "In my opinion? It'd be way easier to be dead." And how plausible it had been. After all she was a small, thin, teenaged girl with a power that allowed her to re-create her old bunny plush. How was it that she lived while her aura-reading and -manipulating friend died? Adailia was good with weapons, not her.

The gargantuan droid started to make a strange sound, catching Kaira's attention. Curiosity took hold of her and she stepped closer, looking up to see its face as it towered above them. She started to reach out, wanting to know how it felt, if its metal surface was burning hot or ice cold, if it hurt to touch or was as smooth as it looked. It mystified her; technology like this was still an enigma to her. And this newness distracted her until Game spoke again, breaking her concentration on the robot. She pulled back quickly, having almost forgotten he was there.

"Do you know," she spoke slowly, as if she were speaking a different language he was only beginning to understand, "how many times I've been told that?" She shook her head and looked at him, surprised to see the meanness had drained from his gaze, leaving them dark and terribly, terribly empty. "It just doesn't work." She shrugged, unwilling to go on with the topic. "So. What's this guy for?" She turned once more to the giant metal creation, trying to take in every detail of the thing.

"It scares the crap out of kids." replied Game, tapping the ogre's shell. He didn't expect his weak attempt at a joke to make Kaira laugh, it was, however, reassuring for him to experience something familiar. The idea of talking to friends had almost died, with all of the horrible experiences he had underwent. He at least had someone he could talk to, that understood some of the feelings he had. "Seriously... Do you remember the robot I used when we first tried to save Len? Meet his steroid-experimenting, older brother. Robovant Mark Deux." It took the all of his heart to manage a smile. Robovant bent forward, his arm crossing over his side, while the other moved behind his back. It's new gears creaked and grinded as its metal bones clawed against each other.

The top-heavy machine broke from its bow as it toppled to the ground with a boisterous bang. Game flinched at the sound. His machine had the gracefulness of a toddler. He pinched the bridge of his nose in animated frustration, and surprised himself, when a muffled laugh attempted to escape him. He almost let the joy lift him up out of his misery.

"I'll bet it does," she breathed, once again averting her attention from Game to the robot. Its metal skin reflected the light from above, making it look like it was glowing, only adding to its all-too-interesting appearance. She tilted her head slightly, the pale brown hair that she'd hacked off shifting and tickling her cheek. She brushed the wayward strands out of her way and laughed lightly. "Robovant, hm? What's he do besides scare kids? Or act like one." She took an instinctive step back as the giant robot fell forwards, crashing to the ground, still uncertain of his new limbs, not having used them before. Kaira retraced her step and crouched beside the fallen beast, touching its shoulder gently. It was warmer than she expected, its hard shell solid and sturdy despite its clumsiness. Well, that would certainly be helpful. If his motor skills were this terrible, extra padding would definitely do him some good.

"He's still in the works, it's much harder than I thought to make a robot by yourself... Too much circuitry and oil. Heh." Game held up his hands, showing the black stains that coated his hands. Game stuffed his hands into his pockets, absentmindedly kicking his machine, and wincing ever so slightly. The rustbucket didn't truly have a purpose. He had just... came to be out of nowhere. Any preparation had been thrown to the wayside. He shrugged awkwardly, his eyes moving to face the plexiglass window that let the stars into the room, it was supposed to be 'the best view on the station' when a planet passed by. But all he ever saw was stars and darkness. "Is this the only reason you came here?"

OOC: Where is this thread going? @_@

ooc: I don't know. o.O;

Kaira looked up at the boy's black stained hands. The oil definitely didn't have a pleasant smell, and it polluted the air inside Game's room. She grimaced slightly. "That stuff stinks." She gave the robot's shoulder a light squeeze and stood up, a bit stiffly. She gave the robot a final look and turned back to Game, but he seemed to be distracted by whatever was outside. She tried to follow whatever he was looking at, and she had to hold back a contented sigh. It was a beautiful, clear night. She hadn't seen the sky, truly, for so long. It had always been covered in smog, covered by swarms of enemy ships, or she was too busy running and hiding for her life to notice it. Lucky Black Zone. They could sleep under the twinkling orbs all night, letting their soft glow illuminate the room.

She crossed her arms. "I just needed someone to talk to, someone that could relate. And you were the only one I could think of." That's still alive. The unsaid words lingered like the oil that was poisoning the air. "You and her? You two were my only friends. Are." Without waiting for his response, she walked purposefully up to him, and wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug. "Thanks for keeping me alive. And good luck with your robot." Then she stepped away from him and turned around to go back to her room. It was late and the trip back to her room would be a long one.

Game eyes flashed to Kaira and stayed locked on her face, as she moved toward him and embraced him. He didn't return the favor, or say a word as she hugged him, even though he wished he could. He felt frozen in his stance, unable to interact with her, too even feel her warmth. Even as she released him much- too soon -he didn't even move. He straightened his posture as she left, he wished that she would have stayed, but he knew it was his fault that she had left. Her words clung to him, as he fell to the floor, his back against his bed as Game stared at his machine. If his robot could feel, it would probably be just like him, only half as useless.