[Scaramouche's face brightens inside his helmet as they pass a feature of the landscape he created: the tyre marks that were left by the jeep he drove out here recently. It copped a beating from the wind that day, ending with him being put on the back foot and having to reverse the thing all the way back to Anchor. It's the only evidence of one of his many failed attempts at making it out here on his own.
Soon, the marks in the sand are behind them. The crashed ship casts its shadow over them in no time.
Scaramouche alights the vehicle, all hopped up and ready to go. He's bombed enough solo attempts at making it this far (not that he cares to admit it) to let the radiation suit distract him from this triumph. He just has to make it work! Keeping a firm grip on the sheathed dagger that's lowered at his side (someone will have to slice off his hand if they want it in theirs), he moves farther into the crash site, the larger blade inside the scabbard on his back clanking against his suit with each step.
Once they're inside the wreckage, Scaramouche basks in the eerie ambience, smiling in spite of their grim surroundings and its terrible sights, smells, and sounds. Any light that shines through is eventually swallowed up by the darkness, and the number of robot corpses grows with it.
He does some heavy lifting of his own. He's hoping it won't be long before they find something useful to take back with them; anything that might help to get him on his way back to Earth.
They start to hear the faint echo of laughter and song.]
Wait, what's that?
[There's a slight smile in his voice. The bot straightens and turns his luminescent eyes to the pitch blackness ahead.]
1
Count me in, babe
*
[Scaramouche's face brightens inside his helmet as they pass a feature of the landscape he created: the tyre marks that were left by the jeep he drove out here recently. It copped a beating from the wind that day, ending with him being put on the back foot and having to reverse the thing all the way back to Anchor. It's the only evidence of one of his many failed attempts at making it out here on his own.
Soon, the marks in the sand are behind them. The crashed ship casts its shadow over them in no time.
Scaramouche alights the vehicle, all hopped up and ready to go. He's bombed enough solo attempts at making it this far (not that he cares to admit it) to let the radiation suit distract him from this triumph. He just has to make it work! Keeping a firm grip on the sheathed dagger that's lowered at his side (someone will have to slice off his hand if they want it in theirs), he moves farther into the crash site, the larger blade inside the scabbard on his back clanking against his suit with each step.
Once they're inside the wreckage, Scaramouche basks in the eerie ambience, smiling in spite of their grim surroundings and its terrible sights, smells, and sounds. Any light that shines through is eventually swallowed up by the darkness, and the number of robot corpses grows with it.
He does some heavy lifting of his own. He's hoping it won't be long before they find something useful to take back with them; anything that might help to get him on his way back to Earth.
They start to hear the faint echo of laughter and song.]
Wait, what's that?
[There's a slight smile in his voice. The bot straightens and turns his luminescent eyes to the pitch blackness ahead.]