Intro To Existing Again

Learning(Kind Of)

 Training is the worst. You have to go through simulated hell and back for several hours straight and record every single moment of it. If you get injured, you have to suck it up and finish your tasks, then sit around in pain until someone can find the time to repair you. And you have to train like this, no joke, every other day. And if you dare complain about it, then...

Then...

Why did he feel so lightheaded?

MePhone3GS stumbled over his own feet for a while, leaning against walls for support. His joints had unlocked themselves, but he still had to figure out the whole walking thing. Which kind of sucked, because his entire body hurt. Wasn't he supposed to be repaired? Repairment and pain didn't seem like things that could coexist to him. Usually his repairs were supposed to relieve pain.

He looked around the laboratory, which was covered wall-to-wall with nerdy posters and shelves cluttered with vials, books, containers, and even small machines. There were cabinets that loomed over counters occupied by open notebooks, writing utensils, tools, chemistry sets, and a single lava lamp. On one of the walls was a calendar, which clearly had some kind of science-y space theme based on the picture. Several days had words scrawled onto them in rushed handwriting. MePhone3GS saw that some of the events that month included a doctor's appointment, a family game night (whatever that was,) and the birthday of somebody named Toilet. What an unfortunate name.

But the events were not the things to catch MePhone3GS' eye. The month and year was what he noticed.

January, 2017.

He had been unconscious, in a dark, dusty storage room, completely ignored by his creator, for seven years.

Even though that Test Tube girl had already told him that, the knowledge still felt like it was breaking a hole in his very soul. He hated the idea of missing so much. He hated the idea of Mr. Cobs forgetting about him for so long.

He stumbled clumsily to get a better look at the calendar. He was lucky there was nothing on the floor to trip over. Moving with such a lack of coordination was embarrassing enough without falling down.

Upon looking closer at the calendar's picture, he saw that it was definitely a painting, and an impressive one at that. He could see sophisticated brushstrokes and expert color blending. The color choices went very well together. MePhone3GS wondered who painted it. He flipped to the next month, seeing another painting in a very similar style. Were all the pictures in this calendar by the same person?

The month of February also had events marked on it. Test Tube really seemed to plan ahead.

MePhone3GS was curious about the lab, but didn't really think about what could be outside of it. Sure, his whole life was laboratories and workrooms, but this was a completely different lab, designed and used by completely different people. He found it interesting. Much more interesting than a hotel. Actually, he didn't really know how interesting hotels were. He knew what they were, of course, but he'd never actually been in one. It's not like he ever spent much time outside of Meeple.

He decided to take a look at the counters. So he turned towards them. This time he would walk like a normal adult human who hadn't been comatose for the past seven years. He looked at the ground, but was quickly caught off-guard.

Where was his uniform? His boots? His badge? How he didn't realize this sooner was beyond him, but he was wearing gray sweatpants and a very oversized hoodie. What did Test Tube do with his clothes? Whose clothes were he wearing right now? Couldn't they have gotten him a top that fit?

He forced himself to brush off the clothes thing and focus on walking. It was so easy. So easy the idea of forgetting how to do it was almost comedic. Just put one foot in front of the other. Simple as that.