Rustbolt yawned and stretched his arms. He was practically on autopilot,
half-asleep. “I DONT WANT ANOTHER ONE!” He swatted away an imaginary
something. Who knew what he was seeing, half his brain was dreaming.
Until he felt himself bump into something, and somehow he managed to
fall flat on his face, right at the Repairman’s… “feet.”

The Repairman turned around just in time to be caught in the face by a guy in a metal suit.

“Augh! What the–?!”

He rubbed his face, before jumping back at a massive clatter. Marie also jumped, her bow flicking back to normal from the force of it.

They looked down to find his…assailant…collapsed on the ground. Screws and nuts and bolts were scattered this way and that.

“Uh…hey…you okay?” the Repairman asked, after a stunned moment of silence.

Marie, meanwhile, was starting to pick up all the loose parts, inspecting each of them closely as she did so.

“What are you doing?!” the Repairman urgently whispered.

“I’m just getting all his stuff together for him…”

“Well, stop! It looks like you’re stealing them!”

Marie rolled her eyes, and put the pieces she collected into neatly organized piles in front of the fallen character. The piles seemed to be sorted not only by type, but also size, color, and even age.