Trivial concerns {Open}

[Edgar [44]]

It was with a particular dreadful certainty that his feet carried him towards the great structure of the Cathedral. The moment his optics had clapped on it, he'd been struck with a sort of awe; surely this behemoth of architecture, the final great testament to the giants that had once dwelt in this land of ruin, surely this was the place of his safety?

But it was a long walk, from seeing the Cathedral to getting close to it, and Edgar's mind, in its usual miserable occupation, had twisted the concepts down and back on themselves.

It won't be enough. It was no creature of fabric and metal as he; walls did not stop it, nor warriors keep it at bay. The rumormongers who spoke of the Cathedral described it as a haven for poor families; would he bring that abomination into their midst? Decency demanded at least that he turn about and go back to die in the wastes; better to suffer alone than to drag an entire faction of dolls to their deaths with him.

Yet, while his morbid thoughts stewed, Edgar continued on his path to the Cathedral. He was so close, and his journey so long; it would be a shame not to at least try and talk to them...

He paused, just at the base of the steps, optics clicking as if to drag his consciousness from the valleys of morbid contemplation where it so often lurked. The exterior of the building was... deserted. Cloth lips worked as if chewing his words, debating calling out. He certainly didn't want to make a first impression by turning up where he was not wanted...
"...Erm..." he began, at inadequate volume, then coughed into his hand and shifted the pincushion across his shoulders.

[Vagabond[101]]

With the noise of approaching footsteps thumping through the snow, a figure burst out of hiding to Edgar's left. He lifted his giant forearms to the sky and roared an attack cry in a somewhat high, thin voice disproportionate with his villainous appearance.

"ATTAAAAAAACK!" He roared, flailing his arms around and knocking aside a stray can.

At first, it was very intimidating. And then the mysterious ragdoll got closer to Edgar. Closer... And shorter. By the time he had reached the other ragdoll it became apparent- The newcomer barely reached Edgar's elbow. He stopped at arms length from Edgar and threw his metal arms up in fighting position. "C'mon big boy, put up your dukes! I'll fucking CREAM you! I'll knock you in to next goddamn tuesday! I'll hit you so hard your buttons will feel it!!" He continued like this, shouting expletives and dancing around Edgar. It wasn't really all that threatening- It was like a small machine yapping at a CatSkull.

"WHOOO I GOT THE SPEED OF A CATBEAST AND THE REFLEXES OF A BUG, BRING IT ON SKINNY BRITCHES!!" He howled, took a step forward to swing at Edgar, and tripped promptly over a piece of metal in the snow. He went down with a loud 'OOMPH!, his arms splayed out. He didn't seem to be moving. It looked like he had knocked himself out.

[Edgar [44]]

Edgar was not an idiot.

Nor was he of the sort to stand around gaping when he was clearly under attack. At Vagabond's initial warcry, he very nearly jumped out of his fabric, backing up a few paces and fumbling awkwardly at the straps of his pincushion.

Then fear gave way to a sort of bewilderment, which lasted until the loudmouthing stitchpunk tumbled, in which he was jerked back to reality with the efficiency of a five-story fire alarm. For a moment he simply stood, staring down at the stranger before him.

"...Oh dear."

Doctor instincts took over, and he stepped over one of Vagabond's arms to kneel in the snow besides the shorter doll's head, already groping behind himself for a pin. "Are you all right? Can you hear me?"

[Vagabond[101]]

"Huh? Ummzjus' takin' a nap?" He rolled over. His optics were literally spinning in his head, the angry looking slits that made his pupils rotating in opposite directions. "Wugh." He sat up quickly and rubbed his head. He shot Edgar a sharp glare.

"Who the fuck are you?" He snapped, rolling onto his stomach, flailing a bit, and then getting unsteadily to his feet. He wobbled, tottered in a small circle, and shook his head spastically back and forth. A small tinkling sound like the sound of delicate instruments clanking together could be heard and he hit his head as though trying to knock water out of his auds. He blinked and focused on the Doctor.

"So I guess you're not a traitor." He said, putting his hands up again. "But what faction are you from, beanpole? You have five seconds to answer before I put a world of hurt on you unlike any other you have ever experienced in your miserable tall life."

[Edgar [44]]

"...Very well," Edgar said, in a mild tone, though the look on his face told quite clearly that he didn't buy it for a minute. As the other doll recovered, though, the doctor began to feel a slight jolt of panic. Just as quickly as it sparked up, however, it died at Vagabond's next statement.


"A TRAITOR?! I would have nothing to do with their sort, thank you," and he sniffed indignantly, grumbling something under his breath before his tone rose back to audible level. "And the Rogues, so they call themselves, really no better, a pack of brutes and charlatans if there ever was one..." The doctor straightened, brushing snow from his fabric knees with disdainful flicks of his wrist. "To answer your inquiry, I am a traveling doctor; having heard tales of the great fortitude of the Cathedral, I thought that I might seek sanctuary here." Though his tone was still at something of a huff, his optics constricted and his mouth set into a worried line, as if the mere reminder that he would have something to flee terrorized him. He looked past Vagabond as if no longer seeing the shorter stitchpunk, his gaze following the line of the horizon, though nothing afforded itself.

"..._{won't be, will it..."}

[Vagabond[101]]

"... What's a... Charla... Whatever. Anyways if you're gonna be a little pussy and run from he machines I guess you could stay here." He crossed his arms indignantly and raised an eyebrow. "Uh, anyways... I'm Vagabond. I'm one of the Saviors, so I guess that gives me the authority or whatever to accept you into the clan. Or something. If you wanna stay here we got plenty of room... Don't see why you would want to stay here though, buncha sissy little girls if ya ask me.

He crouched down and let his knuckles rest against the dirt. His stance made it clear that he often sat like that. "But I'm warning ya skinny britches if you make one wrong move I'll slap you sideways, got it?" He stood up and walked past the other. "C'mon, I'll take you inside. "

[Edgar [44]]

For a moment, it didn't seem as if Edgar had heard; his optics had locked on a spot in the distance, and while his face was unreadable, his pupils had narrowed to pinpricks.

"Ah- yes, yes of course," he mumbled, strangely docile compared to his earlier indignation. The loner took one step back, then another, and then half-staggered to come beside Vagabond, his wider strides allowing him to catch up easily. He shot a look back as he did so, and whatever he saw in the seemingly empty space, one hand gripped Vagabond's shoulder, the point of his forefinger just missing the other's fabric. "I don't mean to trouble you, but perhaps we could... make haste..?" A note of panic gave his voice volume, but he seemed reluctant to speak any louder than a desperate murmur.

[Vagabond[101]]

Vagabond gave the hand clamped to his shoulder a dangerous glare, one eyebrow arching as he turned his head. He squinted with his slit-like pupils at the horizon, but his poor eyesight did not lend itself to the task at hand. He turned all the way around and set his hands on his hips. "What's your glitch?" He said aggressively. "There's nothin' out there."

He waved a hand at the emptiness to reinforce his claim and scratched his head, squinting harder and leaning forward as if this would enhance his vision. "Seriously though what the hell are you looking at?" He grumbled, tilting his head to one side.

[Edgar [44]]

The lanky doctor offered what might have been a reassuring smile if it had not appeared on a face in the grip of something only slightly more composed than terror.

"It is a matter of no concern," he said, rather weakly. "A silly thing, really... perhaps I have been alone too long... Eyes playing tricks, you see..." and, with a wince that was a little more obvious than he seemed aware, Edgar about-faced abruptly, confronting himself with the same emptiness as before.

"...Nothing..." he whispered, seemingly to himself and not to Vagabond. "It's gone... no... never was, perhaps..."

[Vagabond[101]]

"You're kinda weirding me out here." Vagabond growled, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently. "Come on skinny britches. You can room with me until we can get you your own little shithole set up." He clapped Edgar on the back hard enough to knock him over and started walking towards the cathedral. "And hurry the fuck up, we don't have all day. Longer we sit out here the more likely it is we get attacked by machines."

He loped towards the tall building, using his knuckles as extra balance much like a gorilla. He stopped and turned to face Edgar. "Hey what's your name anyways?" He said, putting one palm flat against the ground and leaning his entire weight on his left arm. He crossed his legs and brought his hand up to scratch his head, balancing on one arm with ease.

[Edgar [44]]

Snapped from his thoughts at the sound of Vagabond's voice, and all too eager to leave the openness of the Wastes, the tall doctor hastened to comply, one hand going to the mask perched atop his hood instinctively to keep it from slipping off.

"Ah, yes, I never did introduce myself, did I?" His tone was more natural now, almost cordial. "I am Edgar... or 44, if you prefer." He smiled, nervously, but less in the sense of blind terror and more in the manner of trying to make a good impression. "And, you are..?"

{OOC: Yes, I know Vagabond already introduced himself... Edgar doesn't.}

[Vagabond[101]]

Vagabond's already thin eyes narrowed and his right eyebrow slowly crept up his head. He opened his mouth to say something, closed his mouth, opened it again, then closed it and shook his head. "Oookay. Well, my name is Vagabond." He tapped his head to indicate the 101 over his right eyebrow.

"Bit spacey there, huh Ed?" He muttered. "C'mon. Don't lag behind." He loped away, but stopped to make sure he didn't lose Edgar. He may not have been horribly intelligent but he knew when someone was not in any position to be alone.

[Edgar [44]]

Though his legs were longer, he was not de facto faster, and rather than attempt a discussion of whether he was or was not of a sound mind, he simply focused on following Vagabond, one hand going to the bone mask on his hood as if fearing it might fall off.

The Cathedral was large, and it cast a very... interesting shadow. Reflected on the snow, it was not impossible for a certain troubled mind to see a figure silhouetted there, among the spires and domes, even if his very next step revealed it to be nothing more than a bit of paper half-buried.

"A shadow worthy of the shadow of death.." he whispered, stopping at the top of the stairs. Then, another thought, one not so enraptured in morbid fantasy: "Are you sure this is all right?"

[Vagabond[101]]

"Yeah sure whatever." Vagabond said absentmindedly. "Just looks like a shadow to me." He was beginning to catch on to the fact that Edgar was a little bit... odd. So instead he walked right up to the huge doors and poked his head inside.

"Right, right, I'll probably have to tell 1 you're here... You know, at... At some point." He scratched the back of his neck. Vagabond was loud, crude, and not very gracious. He tried avoiding 1 if he could help it. He enjoyed fighting but he was grateful to the older stitchpunk for providing a sanctuary for them all. But 1's personality rubbed him the wrong way. He didn't want to start a fight with 1 he might regret. "Just keep your fucking head down and don't... Cry all over anything, all right Skinny Britches?"

[Edgar [44]]

Edgar debated answering a moment, even as he followed Vagabond inside. 'Skinny Britches'? Really? He didn't even wear anything, aside from the hood, and that was really more a necessity than a convenience.

"What was all that about, earlier? All that... jumping and shouting?" In his own way, to some extent, he wondered about the person he was following. Not that he doubted Vagabond was sane, it was just...

Well...

He wondered.

A bit.

Conversation also gave him less time to look behind him. Whether that was good news or bad news depended entirely on one's perspective.

{OOC: Late post is laaate ;3; I'm sorry}