Query Metal Knuckles

toothylittlebastard reblogged your post: toothylittlebastard reblogged your post:…

What a nice, docile robot. Somewhat shy, perhaps? Submissive might be a better word. It probably stepped back to avoid injury or collision, pointing to the possibility that this particular mechanoid was not of the battle caliber. Hmmm. Races, it said? Oh that was interesting. It didn’t look like much of a racer but, one never knew.

Would probably make a service robot, Nack thought- yes. It was probably perfectly designed for making tea and cleaning toilets and stuff like that. All the jobs that actual people didn’t want to do. How very useful.


It stays relatively still while it waits for a reply, and then it gets one.
“I got stabbed,” Nack replied honestly. “By a hedgehog,” he added, his expression souring and the good eye narrowing, his mouth curling into a grimace. “Spiky little bastard. And the doc says I gots to wear this til I heals up,” he raised the good arm and indicated his patch with a little wave of his hand.
This causes the bot to raise a claw to where it’s mouth would be, irises lighting up a little more, surprise? Shock? Worry? It’s hard to say with it’s unmoving face, but it’s something. “Ohh, that’s horrible, at least it will repair itself so you don’t need a replacement.”

“Aaaanyways.” Looking the robot up and down with his good eye, the weasel’s face brightened once more. “You say you don’t do nothin’ nowadays, huh? Well ain’t that a shame? And ya say you was a racer? How fast can ya go?”
The correct observation that it doesn’t do much these days seems to strike a chord, and it takes it’s gaze off of the weasel a moment to glance to the side, nodding it’s head. “You are correct, I am patiently waiting for Eggman to place me in another race. From what I understand they involve boards, or cars now, I have neither.” It stops getting sidetracked, and returns to the other question, enthusiastic. “I can keep up with the competition! I admit I have some issues turning… But I think my gliding abilities make up for that. I need some inertia if I’m going to keep up over the water though, for obvious reasons.”

toothylittlebastard reblogged your post: toothylittlebastard reblogged your post:…

Unperturbed by the grind of metal upon metal, Nack observed the robot with an extreme curiosity, that one might almost describe as ‘greedy’. That sound might’ve bothered some mobians, but a mechanic as he was, the weasel got to hear that kind of sound all the time. He was used to it.

He edged closer.


The edging closer doesn’t seem to make the robot flinch, it’s optics pan around a little awkwardly, like it doesn’t like being this close to a stranger. Still, he focuses on the Weasel’s eyes soon thereafter.
Nack had heard the name ‘Eggman’ somewhere before but… unable to place it, he quickly dismissed it.

“Got a little problem there, hey, robot?” chuckled the weasel. When it stamped its foot, his smile only widened with glee. Shifting closer still, he peered into its dark optical units as he listened to its sad little monologue, interspersed as it was with the hiss and sputter of static. Ooooh! It must be broken!

“Say, what the hell happened to you?” Nack wondered aloud. He raised his hand to prod the robot on the tip of the nose, punctuating his question.
“Kind of.” It answers, and when it’s pointed nose is poked it crosses it’s eyes to look at the finger before looking back at the Weasel, unmoving.

“Nothing ‘happened’ other than my creation, some races, and then idleness. I am in good condition for my age, I am just having a slight software issue when it comes to talking about—” There’s no static this time, it caught it’self before it tried to speak the location. “The base, it seems I am not allowed to talk about it, but that’s fine, it’s boring there.”

It takes a step back, gently moving a claw between them to make sure it has enough space to actually move around, not liking the proximity, the lack of movement, confinement. “What happened to -you-?” It asks, noticing the eye.

toothylittlebastard reblogged your post: toothylittlebastard started following you The…

Spying the robot, Nack turned quickly to examine the being. Hmm, big and chunky, yet rather streamlined. Yes, he was impressed.

“Well hello there, metal-man!” he grinned his toothy grin. “And where did you come from before you waltzed into my life?”


The orange irises of the bot glance over the purple being quickly, not in a hasty way, just efficient. It moves a claw to emulate rubbing the side of it’s head. This causes an irritating grinding sound of metal on metal, apparently trying to emulate some organic behavior, but not perfect at it, not by far.

“Hello! I come from…” It’s speech is interrupted by a garbled static, it’s irises seem to widen at this, and it tries again, the same static. It almost seems irritated by this, stamping it’s foot. “I… come from—” More static, and then resignation. “A base run by Eggman.” Failsafes preventing saying exactly where?

dontfuxwithknux:

askmetalknuckles:

It looks even more disappointed despite it’s expressionless face. Eyes dimming again and posture slumping to the point it’s huge claws jab into the dirt. “Oh.” It stays there, still, until Angel Island is mentioned. To which it quickly takes it’s claws out of the ground, trying to pat the dirt back over the holes it made. “First day out and I’ve already damaged Knuckles’ home!”

When it’s satisfied that it’s filled the holes, they weren’t even that big, only about as big as a railway spike would make, it stands back up, bowing formally. “This unit apologizes for the property damage.”

Straightening out again, it tilts it’s head and responds to the question. “I am searching for racers because it is my function. The last racing circut I was part of was referred to on television programs as ‘Sonic R.’”

Already damaged it?  Knuckles spent more than half his day digging holes on the diseased island!  It almost made him chuckle, but he was still too nervous to really do so.  Well, the robot didn’t seem to be too dangerous, but the echidna wasn’t ready to let down his guard just yet.  Those giant claws kept catching the Mobian’s eye and making him wary, though he tried not to let his glances appear too obvious.

”..Don’t worry about it.”  This was followed closely by, “Television program?”  Odd.  Knuckles didn’t know much about ‘television’ and he certainly didn’t know that racing was something people watched on TV.  But he supposed it could be interesting enough to some people.  “…Well.. Sorry to disappoint.  I’m not a racer.  As you can see.”  He gave a small, wavy smile, gesturing at his rounded belly.

“Yes, Television, you get a little box with dials on it, and you turn them and moving pictures appear on it. A camera on the other end feeds it the pictures and it spits them back out.” A strange description of a TV from a robot, for sure.

It looks down at the belly, it’s irises seem to shrink, or the orange becomes larger. “Oh, you’ve retired… Is my internal clock malfunctioning? I must head back to base for a diagnostic.” It turns around, and stops, remembering the polite thing to do. Swiveling back around, it raises one of those huge claws and gives a wave to the organic counterpart. “Goodbye, Knuckles.”

toothylittlebastard started following you


The robot’s hues dim, and then brighten, not entirely sure what it’s looking at. A quick search of what limited data it has tells it it’s looking at a Weasel, one that is purple if it’s optics are functioning correctly. It doesn’t think it’s seen it at the races, maybe in the stands? No, no, probably not, that would be wishful thinking, nobody remembers those. It shakes it’s head, it should cut to the chase.

“Hello?”

Simple, and to the point, it’s not sure what to say without further action.

dontfuxwithknux:

askmetalknuckles:

The claw lowers when Knuckles says he’s not a racer, the robot’s orange irises dim, as if disappointed. “This… contradicts archived information.” Taking a step back, the robot’s posture slumps, and it sounds like it’s emitting a sigh, apparently not having much luck finding anyone to race. “I am Metal Knuckles.”

It shakes it’s head, eyes getting brighter again as it straightens out it’s posture, trying to remain positive. “Are there racers within the vicinity? Without boards, or cars… why do they even need boards or cars?” It’s getting sidetracked again, and shakes it’s head, the jets on it’s ‘dreads’ flaring briefly.

For the first time it seems to take in the area more than just the organic it’s speaking to, and adds another question onto the other two. “Where IS the vicinity?”
The guardian visibly relaxed when the robot also took a step back, though he still didn’t look completely comfortable.  If anything, he still seemed on edge, ready to take off at any minute… or, well, try to, or maybe just curl into a ball or something.  The robot could probably catch up to him before he would be able to take a single step.  It wasn’t like Knuckles was really known for his speed.

“…Um…”  Racers without boards or cars?  Knuckles didn’t even think he knew any.  Sonics were pretty fast, but he didn’t know if any were around here at all!  Slowly, the echidna shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck.  “….No, I.. don’t think there are any racers around here… And you’re on Angel Island… kinda.. my flying island home.. heh heh…”

So the robot was likely a zone hopper.  Wonderful.  Knuckles was always antsy about robots but especially if they were on his island.  Tentatively, he asked, “…Why are you lookin’ for racers, anyway, bolts?”
It looks even more disappointed despite it’s expressionless face. Eyes dimming again and posture slumping to the point it’s huge claws jab into the dirt. “Oh.” It stays there, still, until Angel Island is mentioned. To which it quickly takes it’s claws out of the ground, trying to pat the dirt back over the holes it made. “First day out and I’ve already damaged Knuckles’ home!”

When it’s satisfied that it’s filled the holes, they weren’t even that big, only about as big as a railway spike would make, it stands back up, bowing formally. “This unit apologizes for the property damage.”

Straightening out again, it tilts it’s head and responds to the question. “I am searching for racers because it is my function. The last racing circut I was part of was referred to on television programs as ‘Sonic R.’”

dontfuxwithknux:

askmetalknuckles:

It takes a step forward, beginning to list off reasons for just what is wrong with the organic echidna’s face. “Brow raised, upper eyelids higher than the norm, tensed lower lids, lips horizontally spread. Symptoms of fear.” It lifts one of it’s handless arms, resembling large claws. “Something reserved for danger, I detect none, and you are not a hostile organism. You are Knuckles, another racer.”

Knuckles was still cowering back a bit, though he was trying to pick out any possible hints of robotic sarcasm in the machine’s words.  If there was any he couldn’t tell, but he certainly flinched when the automaton raised a hand, almost as if expecting to be hit.  When said attack never came, the guardian just gave a sort of nervous snort, pawing his gloved hands together.

He’d had two people call him a ‘racer’ before; Jet and that alternate Silver.  Why did everyone think he raced?  He’d never been on one of those ‘extreme gear’ boards in his life, and he wanted it to stay that way!

“…I’m.. I’m not a racer,” he muttered, taking a step back and adjusting his hat, trying to remain calm and collected.  “But I am Knuckles.”

The claw lowers when Knuckles says he’s not a racer, the robot’s orange irises dim, as if disappointed. “This… contradicts archived information.” Taking a step back, the robot’s posture slumps, and it sounds like it’s emitting a sigh, apparently not having much luck finding anyone to race. “I am Metal Knuckles.”

It shakes it’s head, eyes getting brighter again as it straightens out it’s posture, trying to remain positive. “Are there racers within the vicinity? Without boards, or cars… why do they even need boards or cars?” It’s getting sidetracked again, and shakes it’s head, the jets on it’s ‘dreads’ flaring briefly.

For the first time it seems to take in the area more than just the organic it’s speaking to, and adds another question onto the other two. “Where IS the vicinity?”
"THIS UNIT BIDS WELCOME"

"Hello to you in turn, welcome where, exactly?"

There’s almost a hint of confusion in the orange optics of the ‘bot, never having seen an E-Series before.

askmetalknuckles:

The robotic doppleganger lands on the ground with a clank of it’s boot like feet against pebble and grass. Orange irise, eyeing up the organic counterpart as it takes a curious step forward. Optics getting brighter. Vocal processing coming to life as it finally speaks…
It takes a step forward, beginning to list off reasons for just what is wrong with the organic echidna’s face. “Brow raised, upper eyelids higher than the norm, tensed lower lids, lips horizontally spread. Symptoms of fear.” It lifts one of it’s handless arms, resembling large claws. “Something reserved for danger, I detect none, and you are not a hostile organism. You are Knuckles, another racer.”

dontfuxwithknux:

askmetalknuckles started following you

“…You look like I did when I was turned into a robot…”

The echidna took a nervous step back, wringing his hands together.  He hadn’t had to deal with any robots in a while, and he was still pretty edgy about them, obvious in the way he eyed the machine in front of him.

The robotic doppleganger lands on the ground with a clank of it’s boot like feet against pebble and grass. Orange irise, eyeing up the organic counterpart as it takes a curious step forward. Optics getting brighter. Vocal processing coming to life as it finally speaks “What’s wrong with your face?” It’s tone is one strangely friendly, but it sounds like it hasn’t been modified for quite some time, still very robotic in nature, and sounding a little confused from the expression of fear.