Ocula Oneshots (OC Short Stories)

Trashed Memories Makes More Storage Anyway

"Forge's sake Butch, how do you even live like this?!" Retro grimaced as they pulled out another pile of old takeout boxes. Left wondering why she bothered even ordering any of these when most of them were barely even touched, some not even opened.

"Eh, don't see much point bellyachin' when I got ya as personal room service" Butch idly leaned back against the door with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her puffy jacket, watching on with a smirk as her brother frantically wheeled around the room "Besides, it's not as bad as you're makin' it out to be Retro, my room just got a lil character is all"

"Your room is practically housing its own ecosystem!"

"Really now? Heh, guess I got me some new roommates then"

The green painted bot pressed onward despite his sister's groan worthy remarks. Admittedly trying his best to bury down a light chuckle, as he began neatly piling up the trash collected so far. It felt relieving having finally convinced Butch to tidy up her room, after weeks of constant delay, rainchecks, and excuses, Retro's personal favorite being that Butch had an "Appointment to buy headlight fluid and do her taxes". Please, he wasn't born yesterday, what kind of idiot did she take him for...Butch never files her taxes.

They'd managed to get a good chunk of work done over the last couple of hours, two piles marked "Trash" and "Keep" placed at the center of the room, the keep section practically the height of a small tower in comparison to the rather pitiful lump of trash. As much as Retro admired Butch's habit of keeping onto little mementos here and there, but even he has to admit she's pretty much a pack rat. I mean, who on earth would need an old beat up toaster, a collection of expired coupons, cases of scratched unusable CDs and...wait is that a parking meter? Nevertheless, the whole point of cleaning was to help clear up space, and her clinginess to all this junk is just making that more difficult than it needed to be.

"Butch, you seriously have to work with me here" Retro chided in a polite tone, stacking up some old books that he knows for a fact she's never read.

"Hmm, not sure what ya mean there, I think I've been plenty fair"

"Really? Alright then, what should we do with these now?" Pulling out a box of old receipts, Butch looked over the contents for a good while, scratching her chin whilst her brain went into overdrive thinking over a decision, secretly enjoying the growing expression of impatience on Retro's face.

"Keep"

"What! I don't...what about these napkins?"

"Keep"

"T-These dead plants you had abandoned under the desk?!"

"Hmm...heh, yeah those are definitely all keepers"

"Butch!"

"Kiddin', Kiddin'! Heh-Ha! I'll try and get some of this situated lil' bro"

Butch wheeled over to the trash pile, beginning to sort through various old knick knacks in an effort to help appease her brother's wishes. Even if she found his neat freakouts amusing, she could at least try to follow his advice every once in a while, and was only looking out for her after all. As the two continued on, Butch had stumbled upon some old photos, several burned or ripped up at one side, each cutting off a figure standing next to her younger self, almost as if intentionally. The sight left her silent, dwelling over the windows of the past as she kept a tight grip, only for her brooding to be interrupted by her brother's excited outcry.

"Hey Butch! You won't believe what I found!"

"Huh? Oh...heh, what's up bro-" Butch halted mid-sentence, singular eye widened in shock at the sight before her. Retro stood happily at her hammock, an old slightly rusted helmet clutched within his hands. The visor was cracked at the center, fissures spread all across its surface, the thick layer of dust clinging to the smooth metal and giving it a soft almost fuzzy texture upon the old piece of headwear. Retro chuckled lightly, confusing her reaction for one of elated joy as he ranted on.