Power Noodles Noir by SiriusDF

Thursday Prompt: 04/04/2019
Prompt word: convert

Based on a drawing by Silverbirch of Furaffinity
aka Kullen


Power Noodles Noir

by SiriusDF

The gray overcast became a drizzle blanket soaked in cadaver colored city lights. Fuel Rod Avenue's eatery stalls, a crossroads for many a Milieu, saw only a few patrons out this drenched evening. Under a protective tent roof, the metallic and glass domed Servitor for Metal Mike's Power Noodles patiently waited for customers to occupy the stall's stools. Keeping busy by wiping the eroded, fake Formica counter top with a rag.

The proprietor had recently revised the stall's sign: Metal Mike's Power Noodles! Digital or Physical monetary exchange accepted! All currency Conversions free of fees!

A pedestrian with no rain gear, brolly or clothing lumbered up the middle of the Avenue. Bent backed, thick reptilian build with an armor scaled tail and resembling an erect version of Crocodylidae, but having an impressive pair of curved horns sprouting from it's head and a thick forest of spinal spikes on it's backside. The beast sniffed the air and ambled over to the stall.

"Greetings! What will your eating pleasure be?" spake the Servitor in Trade English. Though his glass domed head and stance projected a neutral appearance, internally, the robotic AI logged concern whether this creature was or was not a sentient being. The later could be trouble as local law enforcement was lax on this rainy evening.

The massive reptilian being heaved it's bulk onto one of the stools, which creaked under a very solid weight. Somehow, despite centimeters long claws handicapping a four fingered hand, the being produced a digital currency card and slid it across the counter.

"Noodles. Plain. All you can make with what's on the card!" growled the horned beast.

The Servitor's network queried the card. Legitimate and with current conversion tables, holding enough value to provide at least several dozen bowls of noodles! The robot replied, "Will do. However our bowls are somewhat..small."

The beast grumped. "Bring out a tray and keep serving till the card runs dry!"

With a deferential bow, the Servitor turned and swiftly ladled out noodles into a row of stacked bowls, which were transferred to a tray and delivered to the counter top. The horned beast gripping each bowl like an over-sized espresso demitasse cup and slinging each bowlful of noodles down a peg toothed maw. Bowl after bowl delivered like a factory assembly line. Empty bowls littered the counter top.

So busy was the Servitor, he had just returned with a second pot of freshly made noodles to feed the beast, when a second pedestrian approached the stall.

Unlike the unclothed reptile, this rather odd canine was dressed in an off white zoot suit in turquoise stripes and carrying a ruby jeweled, ebony cane for fashion than use. The oddness came not from the dog's dapper suit, nor from black and tan features, erect ears and sharp snouted muzzles that resembled a doberman. It stemmed from three heads and necks radiating from an outfit tailored for three that was the true oddity.

The suit seemed unaffected by the evening damp as the canine stood by an empty stool next to the heavy clawed being, who barely gave the dog any notice. Each of the canine's heads had different colored eyes.

The three headed dog tapped his cane on the counter top. The suited creature's right head, with a leering expression, spoke to the seated reptile.

"είσαι ο συνταξιούχος των δαίμων."

The Servitor noticed puzzlement upon the horned reptile's snout, the robot activated his translation circuitry. He translated for his customer.

"He say in Greek, that 'You are the Retirer of Daemons'."

The clawed beast paused, holding a noodle bowl.

"That's not my name. It's a job title," the reptile replied to the Servitor in a low pitched voice. Clawed hands scooped up two more noodle bowls and promptly slurped dry. He lifted his horned head and spoke aloud as if to no one. "I'm not active nor applying for the position."

The three headed dog tapped the counter top again with his cane.

The left head, with an aggressive toothy snarl, growled, "Είμαι ο Κέρβερος και έρχομαι σε κλήση!"

The Servitor translated, "He say, 'he Kerberos and he brings a summons.."

The horned beast interrupted the Servitor with a rumbling growl befitting a volcanic pipe, "Tell Kerb my Fan club only hands out autographs. Summons go in the round file!"

Before the Robot could utter a counter translation, the dog sharply rapped his jeweled cane against the scaled creature's flanks. The horned head swiveled, peg teeth bared, eyes glowing red; only to freeze in mid gesture.

Frozen and paralyzed as if slamming against something as dense as a Neutron star, the reptile's anger became converted to a cryogenic dread colder than a Bose Condensate.

This time, the center head of the three headed dog, with a neutral aire, declared, "Deathclaw! Ο Άδης θέλει μια λέξη μαζί σου."

Scaled tail sagging, Deathclaw replied in a hushed mutter, "Hades? Wants a word, Eh?"

The three heads of Kerberos nodded. Retracting his cane, Kerberos swiveled around and strode to the middle of the avenue. The force holding Deathclaw released it's grip. With a bowed head, the reptilian creature stood up and meekly approached the dapper dressed, three headed canine standing in the middle of street.

Only now, did the Servitor noticed the strange conveyance occupying the middle of the wet pavement. Made of bright brass alloy. A gilded, caged enclosure that resembled the elevator lift cars that once were in style on Victorian Era Terra.

He observed the pair enter the strange conveyance, the elaborately decorated door of bars slid shut. The robot had borne witness to many a strange craft in this space port. Strange vehicles that would sometimes roll along the avenue or touch down from the sky. Most strangely, the elevator cage with the two occupants simply sank into the solid pavement and vanished. Like water soaking into the ground.

The Servitor logged a request to his supervisor to have his sensors checked for malfunction.

Power Noodles Noir


13 April 2019 at 11:48:53 MDT

Thursday Prompt for April 4, 2019
Prompt word: convert

Thursday Prompt series hosted by vixyyfox on Furaffinity.

A short that shamelessly steals tropes from the Fallout game and a certain cult Sci-Fi movie. This robot has seen things you people wouldn't believe...

Based on a drawing by silverbirch of Furaffinity


Submission Information

Literary / Story