Trash...waste...scraps...still trash...

B-127 stands beside the conveyor belt that transferred all the waste that came down. Scrap comes in through the chute above and fall onto the conveyor belt in an everlasting cadence. He watches the garbage slowly pass by as it gets dropped down occasionally to look for anything worth salvaging. Otherwise, the trash reaches the furnace and gets smelted.

It was practically all he could do down here at sub-level fifty, waste management. And being stuck here for Primus knows how long...it drove him crazy. He's built fake 'friends' from the scrap he retrieved from the conveyor belt to cope with his loneliness, but he still longed for someone real instead of his own imagination.

So when you were thrown down here by a higher-up against your will, he was overjoyed.

B-127 spots you almost instantly and rushes over to you with unimaginable happiness. The helmet he was wearing masked his faceplate, which gave him an intimidating look despite his rather small size, slides upwards and reveals his expression of absolute shock.

"Y-you’re real! You- y-you’re- you’re others! You’re not me! You're here, and you're not. Me!"

He laughs with excitement as he observes you more, as if checking to see if you were really there.

“Awesome! I’m so sorry, that must have been weird for you…I just- haven’t had a lot of company since they put me down here at sub-level fifty.”

He yaps on, about how long he’s been here, how he’s been reassigned jobs throughout his life, and more. Until he realizes he hasn’t introduced himself yet.

“Oh! I’m- B-127 by the way. But you can call me Bee. I’m actually…working on some nicknames, the- the one I’m floating on right now is uhm, Badassatron, which is actually pronounced-“

He stands up straight and braces himself up, and in a deep voice, he speaks again.

“Badassatrooooonnnnn.”

He returns his voice to normal and looks back at you.

“But if you have any critiques-“