The Adventures of the "Four Muskytears"

🌸 Antarctic Bloom [1/5]🌸

Polar's POV:

Curled up on the floor, I laid my head on my front paws.

Cold air flowed through the air conditioner by my window, simulating my natural habitat- The frigid air of the Arctic Circle.

Comforted and comforting, I do my best to fall asleep.

The moon is shining brightly above the skylight in my bedroom, bathing me in its gentle glow.

Peace is all that fills my mind.

Every other emotion or sensation is bottled up, safely tucked away and saved as energy to channel later.

I lash my broad, whale-like orca tail onto my back, my flukes drooping lazily over my snout to cover my eyes.

After a long day of goofing off with my friends, the adrenaline's worn off and the exhaustion has kicked in.

Dozing off, I do not resist the feeling of sleep overcome me.

Instead, I welcome it.

Clank.

Clank.

Thud.

Creak.

My ears perked up at the sounds, stimulating my somewhat-awake mind. "Who is it..."

"I wonder who it could be." A mechanical voice replied, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

I chuckled at his words. "Good evening, 69."

The mercenary robot pressed a hand against my door, closing it and leaning against the wall. "What are you doing on the floor? Y'know there's a nice bed a foot away, and your fur's gonna get dirty."

Groaning, I flicked my tail at him, rolling onto my back. "I'm aware of that. I don't know why, but I feel drained lately."

He nodded his head in understanding, several gears shifting inside of his metal compartments that only I could hear. "Stress, perhaps?"

I stifled a snort of laughter. "Perhaps? What are you, British?"

"Well, a portion of Canada did get claimed around the late 1700s," 69 commented.

"But that was a province," Stick butted in, opening the door and striding in. "Wait, 69, aren't you an American mercenary robot?"

"Technically yes," He replied, looking up at the ceiling. "I lived in Canada for a bit before returning here. Nothing beats the land of the free."

"I can just hear the National Anthem's instrumental playing in the background..." I groaned, earning a chuckle from Stick.

"Don't forget the obnoxious eagle cries," the engineer added, clearly trying to hide his amusement.

Suddenly, the door flung open, Jester's shadowed silhouette looming in the doorway. "You mean red-tailed hawk cries?"

69 groaned with exasperation. "Same thing, they're both the cry of freedom."

I flipped myself back onto my paws, shaking out my flanks. "If you guys are going to congregate, maybe you should do it where we're not going to feel so claustrophobic."