ONE MAN'S TRASH... [Cache Event]

[panaceaa]

 What's this? It looks like someone's been leaving strange crates throughout the castle grounds. Scattered around in strange places, these boxes are filled with...hmm. Junk?

At first glance, at least. Digging through them will reveal old cloaks and gear that bestow upon anyone who decides to wear one any number of mysterious effects; or if you're lucky, small, sprite-like robots that whir to life upon being touched. There are a few weapons, too, but these all seem to be entirely nonfunctional.

Whatever you find, the odds are it's in some state of disrepair, tattered or broken or missing some parts. There's certainly enough wires and bits littered at the bottom of these boxes that someone might be able to scrounge up some repairs, if they knew how...

/// the chache event is a go! feel free to have your muse stumble upon whatever goodies seems most reasonable. If you need reference for outfit effects, here's a link to the wiki page, although you're not limited to what's listed there! and if you have any questions you can direct them to the ooc thread for the event ouob

Comments

[mettaton_rex]

Some of those boxes have already been rifled through, for those wires and spare parts at the bottom. Not so much the clothing, although if Mettaton finds a cloak that's not too threadbare he might claim it and dazzle it up a little. But new outfits aren't in short supply, in the castle. Any kind of newer-than-medieval technology is.

Anything that might help to fix him, if he's broken again.

Maybe you'll find him as he's prying the lid off another crate, with a furtive, hunted look on his face as if someone might force him to stop. He's being greedy, he knows, he's being selfish, those aren't all for him - but just enough to be safe. Just one more. One or two.

Or maybe you hear his cry of surprise as he reaches into a box, and whatever's inside it whirrs to life...

[panaceaa]

It's not just Mettaton who's hunting down the crates. Guardian's own search is what has them near enough to hear the noise he makes, and the familiar ping of a companion sprite that follows.

Guardian approaches with his own bot in tow. There's a small measure amusement evident in their voice when they speak. "Find something worthwhile?"

[mettaton_rex]

The smallest things can still set him off, sometimes. A figure standing over him, a trace of amusement in their tone. Mettaton stands and whips round into a defensive pose in one movement, braced for an attack that he realises in the next moment isn't coming.

Not yet?

Or not ever. He's just on edge today, looking through all these boxes of scrap. It's alright. It's alright.

(He should be over this by now, shouldn't he?)

He steps back a little, lowering his hands, tries to brush off the reaction with a soft laugh, though it's the last thing he feels like doing. "Ha... I think so?"

He looks down at the little robot in the crate. It's a pale blue, boxy thing that seems to be having trouble lifting itself out. Mettaton reaches down to give it a hand, still not taking his eyes off Guardian. Just in case.

[panaceaa]

Guardian is no stranger to reactions such as these. They hail from a continent riddled with war. So they don't acknowledge the other's skittishness, and instead simply stay in place and tilt their head slightly as Mettaton reaches inside the box.

"A companion sprite?" they offer. They can't really see from where they stand, but they can guess. Their own floats forward, chirping cheerfully at Mettaton and the bot in his hand. "Lucky find! Don't see too many of those lying around."

[mettaton_rex]

"Companion sprite?" Mettaton echoes, retrieving the small bot from the box and holding it up where Guardian and their own companion can see. It's wider at the top, the overall shape of it seen from the side reminding him of a blockier version of his old house - or Blooky's, considering the colour. Not the most comfortable thought. It's never clear in the castle whether things like this are coincidences...

The speakers on either side of the protruding upper section look like big round eyes. It's adorable.

Mettaton gives Guardian's bot a little smile as it floats nearer. "Hey there, da-" he begins, but he's cut off when the bot in his hands tries to respond, its own friendly chirp turning into a stuttering screech. He winces. That sounded painful.

[dustless]

The first thing Frisk drags out of a box is...clothes. A cloak. Kind of green, not their color, but mostly blue, so they pull it across their shoulders anyway just 'cause they can--the end of it drags on the floor, so it'll only be worn for a little while.

The next thing they get is a broken piece of...weapon, or something. Orange and sharp, a blade that got all chipped and snapped at the tip and the hilt. They only use that for the rest of the stuff in the box they found it in--a bundle of metallic things with buttons that don't do anything but smell hot when they push them, and so the blade is used to push it safely onto a bit of stone, far away from anything flammable.

The thing that catches their interest the most is...a robot. Thing. Maybe. It's like an oval with a point at the bottom, trailing wires when they lift it, and it has a broken glass circle on the front. They've been at the castle with its low-level tech for so, so long, it takes them a while to realize it might've once been a camera lens.

oh my god this is a big backdate but dont. mind me?

[panaceaa]

Seeing a drifter-esque cloak on someone else's shoulders, as oversized and tattered as it is, is such an unexpected sight that Guardian can't help but pause for a second as they come upon the scene, until they realize someone else must have found a crate. X marks the spot, as they say.

"Frisk," they call as they approach. Guardian appraises the child's findings from a semi-polite distance, ending with a warm smile in their direction. "It looks like you've got quite the find here."

no prob time is FAKE

[dustless]

They freeze for a heartbeat, a flash of guilt flaring in their chest, along with a rough cough. It's shaken off with a single jerk of their head. They're not doing anything wrong, looking through stuff. Even taking stuff.

Although--Frisk looks back at them, hands wrapping gingerly around the robot-thing. (To them, Guardian seems to be keeping themselves a little too far away. Maybe they caught the hot scent. Though they seem a little too nice to keep from telling Frisk if they think they might get hurt.)

"...'S not yours, is it?"

[panaceaa]

In truth, the smell of fizzled robot bits was familiar enough that it didn't really register. They do come closer at Frisk's acknowledgement; they'd mostly been concerned that their appearance might startle them, and also unsure if Frisk would interpret them coming too close when there was loot at stake as something aggressive. Guardian's made that mistake before, thanks.

"No," they say, shaking their head. "Not mine." They cast an eye over the scrap left in the crate, and the bundle nudged safely out of the way. "If it's anyone's, it's yours now." They gesture to the sprite(?) Frisk is holding so carefully, as if to say 'help yourself'.