IC Inbox/Private Line

[awfulsentimetal]

[Ring-a-ding if you need something!

The Spine is never without his phone. If he doesn't pick up on the third or fourth ring, something is definitely wrong. Or one of his brothers has stolen it. Or they're just making it impossible for him to answer.]

Comments

IC

[doctoral_bird]

Hey Mister The Spine? Are you there, chap?

[awfulsentimetal]

Uh, yeah... [He wouldn't have picked up his phone otherwise.] Hello, Mister Iverwelling. Can I help you?

[doctoral_bird]

I was kind of wondering. What you thought of your brother.

[ Did he sound tense? A little ruffled? ]

[awfulsentimetal]

... Uh. I've got three of'em.

[He isn't stupid Malkus, he can totally envision what's going down right now. He does not like being in the middle of this spat or whatever it is one bit, nope.]

[doctoral_bird]

[ Slight puff ] You know which one! My roommate. Mister Rabbit.

[awfulsentimetal]

Mister... [Hooboy.] Listen, I don't know what you're callin' for, but I'm not gonna talk bad about Rabbit if that's what you're after.

[doctoral_bird]

Yeah, even mor- wait-

[ Wait he couldn't copy Rabbit's conversation at this point. ]

A-Anyway! He's always trying to sully my name! All of the time!

[awfulsentimetal]

I'm sure you're just readin' into things, Mister Iverwelling.

[Come on, Rabbit is a handful, but he wouldn't actually try to ruin someone's reputation.

...On purpose.]

[doctoral_bird]

I am not! A man gets his hood caught in one egg beater machine, and suddenly he's mechanically inept?!

[ It was the last time the doctor ever tried to repair the broken kitchen devices. ]

It's just puns and games with this fellow, all day!

[awfulsentimetal]

Now I never said you were inept! I'm just sayin'--

[Uh...]

That's just Rabbit bein' Rabbit, Mister Iverwelling. Nothin' to fret about.

[doctoral_bird]

He said it! W-Well I don't know, b-but he heavily implied it! I don't understand your modern linguistic slang and mannerisms!

[ He huffed, mumbling something like "saying his name in- my- that-" and huffing again! ]

Don't you machines ever sleep! All night, your brother looms over me like a haunting specter! What is it to be a "little spoon"?

[awfulsentimetal]

[If The Spine were the sort of person to get drunk--or, for that matter, could get drunk--he would be doing it right now. Oh, would he ever.

There's a long silence while he tries to wrap his poor, poor head around this.]

It. It uh. It means...

[Nope. Can't do it. Not touching this with a Walter Extendo-Pole.]

Nothin'. He's just bein' weird.

[doctoral_bird]

Weird, exactly! He never tells me either. He tells me to go out and ask the female folk if they would want to find out, and when I return to the apartments he simply laughs so hard you would think his facial plates would fall off!

[ The man was clearly distressed. ]

None of them ever seem keen on telling me either, they just keep walking past or take offense!

[awfulsentimetal]

[Distantly.] Do they, now...

[doctoral_bird]

Aye they do, all I ask is "Do I want to be the little spoon?" and it rarely returns a proper answer. What does it mean?

[ A beat. ]

Would I rather be the big spoon? None of what your brother says makes sense, to be frank. Why must he watch me sleep?

[awfulsentimetal]

Mister Iverwelling, if you gotta ask, I'm pretty sure you don't wanna be a spoon at all.

[Help. Someone. Please. He's programmed to be family friendly this is not a family friendly conversation.

The Spine needs an adult.]

He watches you--oh. Well, uh... that's... uh.

[No, seriously, someone can interrupt Malkus and drag him away from the phone any time now.]

Probably 'cause you're his friend. He gets a little... weird... about watchin' over people.

[doctoral_bird]

Perhaps. Also I do not do what he claims I am doing! It's not as if I dream about the automaton or anything!

[ Expect questions over what "Tsundere" means later, The Spine. ]

Suppose some would be grateful to have a powerful musician standing over them as they dream of long eared furry creatures. Did your group have fans in your world, Sire?

[awfulsentimetal]

[Too bad he doesn't know anime from a hole in the ground, Malkus. Recent songs notwithstanding. PRIOR CANON POINT HAW HAW.]

I never said you dreamed about him, Mister Iverwelling.

We had some fans, yeah. Not as big as other bands, but we had our little dedicated followin'. Nice folks, all of'em. Couldn't have gotten where we were back home without them!

[doctoral_bird]

[ Anime is within all of us, The Spine. Even Malkus. ]

Right right, that is true. Apologies for the assumptive-ness. Surely you're being modest! A band of singing machines must have droves of fans! The pub bard manages to amass a crowd, and all he does is sing shanties of drunk sailors.

[awfulsentimetal]

[Uh...]

Don't worry about it, Mister Iverwelling. I'm sure where you come from things are different. Where I'm from, we just have bands that play bars sometimes. Not... uh. "Pub bards".

[doctoral_bird]

Bars.

[ There was faint mumbling on his end of the phone. Something akin to "Barrss... Bars. Bars." He assumed it was something like a tavern, given the conversation. ]

Well I'm still quite surprised! Can't begin to fathom what sort of entertainment your world has, if singing automatons aren't the talk of the town!

[ It could always just be that The Spine was the more humble of the group. ]

[awfulsentimetal]

[The Spine is the humble one, but it isn't false humility. They really aren't that well known outside of their home town.]

Well, uh... [How to explain movies and television to someone that screamed at the sight of him?] It's not that we aren't impressive, it's just that we're... kinda... niche.