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The Crater

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Mid-morning found Skrap-It out on a limb, reaching as far as his little body would allow for a Bitbug hovering, hopefully, just within reach.
"D-Strux is gonna like this!" Skrap-It said out loud, feeling triumphant as his hand closed around the flying part. "Future repairs for his tail! I'd know a T-Trux tail bolt anywhere, haha!" He said, beginning the crawl down the side of the tree he'd been perched near the top of.
"Or... maybe it's a Stegarbasaurus conveyor belt bolt?" He asked once he hit solid ground. Giving the part a good scrutinizing.
"Naw! It looks way too cool to not be a part for D-Strux!"

So Skrap-It started his walk home, bolt in tail, thinking how lucky he was to have a living situation. Considering he, and for that matter most Scraptools, lived a solitary life because they just couldn't bear sharing.
That is, until he'd been found by a Trux who had offered him scrap and never threatened to take it back.

A happy skip to his step, Skrap-It hummed, hoping there was ore when he got home. Pretty sure they had stockpiled at least enough to last through tomorrow.

"D-Strux, I'm hooome~!" Skrap-It called as he passed the lair's proverbial threshold, plunging into a familiar world of both darkness and warmth. One he'd helped build.

When the expected, "Where were you all morning?" or "What took you so long?" didn't rear its head, he searched the murk, waiting for his optics to adjust.

D-Strux's outline grew distinct from the stalagmites and Skrap-It realized the Trux was just sitting there, staring into their lava pit. Again.
He'd been doing that lately. No explanation given, so Skrap-It figured the behemoth must've suddenly decided he liked being warm. Really warm. Or maybe had only now come to appreciate the charm of an indoor reflecting pool.

Knowing D-Strux wouldn't want to be disturbed, though definitely wanting to, he set the bolt aside and started putting together their lunch. Practically giddy when he checked their cache and found plenty to last three days. Four if D-Strux kept skipping breakfast the way he had on and off the last little while.
A strange habit to pick up, if you asked Skrap-It.

On an average day, the Scraptool's 'scroungings', as his cavemate liked to call them, were enough to annoy the T-Trux out of any preoccupation. Usually, by the time Skrap-It had a third of their food set out, D-Strux would have revved on over and dumped more on each pile than they could possibly eat, saying something along the lines of, "This is how it's done."

Glancing over at the motionless ponderer with every piece of ore he arranged, Skrap-It realized he was feeling the beginnings of worry over how long the giant had been ignoring him. Or perhaps, even worse, how long he'd been unaware of his presence all together.
He caught it immediately when the timber of D-Strux's idle changed, morphing to a sound far more similar to an old Ankylodump's roughed up engine.

Skrap-It knew idling wasn't always the smoothest way to pass time, but D-Strux had never had a problem with it... until recently.
When he came to think of it, it had been getting a little loose sounding around breakfast and bedtime.
Hmm. Wracking his brain, a memory stepped forward. Yep. The change had occurred after a particularly nasty defeat at the hands of the Flatirons Gang some while back. If Skrap-It wasn't horribly mistaken.

Either way, he knew the proud T-Trux with an exterior of steel wouldn't want his constitution brought into question, so Skrap-It sighed and got to work putting the finishing touches on lunch.

"Alright, D-Strux!" He called behind himself in his shrillest, most annoying tone. "Come and get it!"
He thought he heard a grunt of some kind from over by the lava pit, but when nothing more came his way, he decided to change tactics.
"Alright D-Strux, someone's got you in a mood, right? Just say the name and I'll go rough 'em up for ya! Right after food. Whadaya say?"

"Sue." Sounded rough to Skrap-It, like it was the first thing the metal mountain had said all morning.

"Nnnope. Sorry, D-Strux, don't know anyone by that name. You'll have to think of someone else!" He said, arranging the last ball of ore on the top of his cavemate's pile just so. "D-Strux?" Skrap-It asked, peering over at the still still figure of his soon to be lunchmate.
Hm. Was the lair suddenly a little quieter than usual?

Though the intrepid Tool knew it wouldn't be appreciated, he needed to see for himself what was keeping the Trux, who never let even questionably good ore go to waste, from joining him at the minerals and silicate bar.
So he clinked his way over to the closer of the massive treads and scurried up to his favorite D-Strux approved standing platform. From there he lodged his plaintive queries.
"D-Strux? Are you ignoring me? Don't ya want lunch? I served it in your favorite pyramid shape."
Skrap-It, having expected a sharp reply or maybe a scowl for his troubles, was worried when he received neither.
"D-Strux? C'mon, it's lunch time! Isn't that, like, your favorite meal of the day?"

Eerily silent, eyes shut, engine off- Wait!
Skrap-It scrambled for the nearest access panel or vent that would give him a clear view of the most powerful internal combustion engine he'd ever stood on top of.
"Uh-oh." The Scraptool poked his head inside the chassis, feeling the comforting wave of two hundred degree -give or take- heat hit him in the face. Heat which usually meant a Trux was functioning just fine. Here, it was just residual heat; he could tell.
After all, the engine was motionless. Every piston and head, even the belts and hoses still as a stone.
Even the radiator seemed to be drawing its last ounces of water across its sieve, working to cool a beautiful machine which... no longer was. Working, that is.

Skrap-It backed out from the access port, closed the panel, and sat on his haunches.
"What am I gonna do? D-Strux might need parts! As in: more than one. Where would I- How-" He shook his head, knowing there was no way he could possibly diagnose, let alone fix, a mechanical problem as devastating as what he was sitting on.

Then, something clicked and his mind went into overdrive.
"That's it! Revvit, Ty, those other annoying Trux and Tools!" He jumped to his feet at the terrifying thought. "If anyone has parts, and practice working on a T-Trux, it's that know-it-all Rotillian!"

He hopped straight to the ground, not minding the slight grind it caused in his knobby knees, scarfed down a few mouthfuls of his perfectly prepared lunch, double checked that the lair was secure, and made for the exit. Thoughts of how he was going to entice the Trux and Tools to follow him here and not reduce his own personal T-Trux to scrap while they had the chance buzzing all through his head.

"Don't worry, D-Strux. Skrap-It is on the case!" He hollered, tearing down the rocky slope as fast as his tiny legs would carry him.