Being a Mechanism wasn't always guns and rainbows and murder, of course it wasn't, you'd all literally died before. Well, maybe barring the Toy Soldier, but you get the point. None of you had come to be on the Aurora under happy circumstances. And, as these things so often do, those circumstances couldn't always be forgotten, pushed from your mind, ignored. It helped that you had eachother, but others can't be there every moment of every day of every immortal lifetime, can they?

As was so frequent on the Aurora, you ended up in a, uh, less than ideal situation in the middle of the night one time. You sat up in your bed, sheets twisted around you as you held your head in your hands, strands of hair sticking to sweaty palms. Just as you were really getting into the swing of your breakdown, you heard the door open and a familiar, soft voice call out into the dark room.

"You okay in here? I was walking past and something felt off. Just checking."