R-NLD 7

It was the hour of twilight, with the light of the sunset showing through the windows of the old, abandoned FTI supermarket. All was quiet, save for the sounds of Helga's footsteps as she walked along inside, scanning everything with her her holopad.

Nearby, Arnold watched, entranced by Helga still. Even now, despite after she had tried to kill him, he was evermore drawn to her, and continued to follow her around, cautiously at a distance, like a stray puppy. He just couldn't help himself. Not only was he drawn to her angelic beauty, her grace, the fact she was the first human he'd ever come into contact with for as long as he can remember, her terrifying but alluring deadly anger, but also her display of emotion. He knew she wasn't a heartless soldier. She had a heart, she had feelings, and she had a sense of what she wanted. Arnold refused to see her as anything less than a beautiful woman inside and out. Deep down beneath her rough exterior, was the heart of a young woman with feelings.

He knew, by looking into her eyes earlier. There was so much more to her than what she displayed.

It was all of that which drew him to her.

So he watched, keeping his distance from a nearby upper level of the supermarket, trying to keep quiet.

But Helga knew he was there, and that he'd been following her around. She didn't see him as a threat, but she didn't understand why he was following her like he was. It was a little annoying, since he reminded her of that crew member that often stalked her during her training, always wheezing and breathing on her neck, and always earning a back-punch from her. Still, he kept his distance from her and just seemed to watch her from afar. Still, why?

She just didn't get it.

There was something about that football headed boy, she knew that much.

While studying a pinwheel, she heard him sigh lightly from where he was, and she looked at him. The boy jumped, thinking she was going to shoot him, falling back into some grocery carts behind him. He then ran off down the stairs, away from the carts that now rolled after him, he crashed into the automatic doors, with all the grocery carts falling up against him. He groaned lightly, and then a lone cart lazily rolled up to the rest, knocking against them, and the doors opened, making him fall flat and the carts all piling on him.

Helga watched in amazement as this scene unfolded, almost expecting him to yell "I'm okay!" like this one crew member back on the Axiom she knew did. Shaking her head, Helga walked off to continue her search, muttering to herself.

"Clumsy football head..."

--

Later on, night had descended upon Hillwood city, Helga was still doing the same thing she'd been doing since she arrived, scanning things to find whatever it was she was looking for.

Arnold was sitting atop an old Elementary school, that back in the day was known to be P.S. 118, gazing after her lovingly. She knew he was there, since even after making a fool of himself, he STILL followed after her. As distracting and annoying as it was, she did have to admit it was kind of cute. The football head had guts, that was for sure.

Yawning tiredly, Helga decided to call it a night. She took out her pocket-sized cryotube, hitting a button to activate it. It expanded in size, and opened up for her. Casting one glance over at the football-headed boy, Helga climbed into it and lay down, closing her eyes as she slowly dozed off into a much needed sleep. The pod closed around her, and all went silent.

Arnold waited a few moments, and then climbed down a pile of trash to get down from the roof, only to go sliding down and land on his stomach. He didn't mind, he had faced worse. The blonde boy stood up, shaking himself off, and looked to where Helga's pod was, and cautiously tiptoed over. He knew he had to be careful, in case she's spring on him. He admired her pod, which was pure white, seeming to have no lines or seams, with a translucent black screen along the top, showing a faint image of Helga's sleeping face. Slowly he approached, and flinched, but nothing happened. He moved around, and then waved his hand over the screen. She didn't budge.

For a few moments, he gazed longingly at her, his hands pressed to her pod. He wanted so much to communicate with her, but how? He feared approaching her and trying to introduce himself, after she'd nearly killed him, twice. But he had to do something! He couldn't take this lying down. Not when he had a chance.

Or at least, some of a chance.

Arnold looked around, wondering what he could do, and then, he spotted a little something on the ground in the trash. He picked it up, it was a toilet rim, and next to it was a mop. He picked that up too, studying the items.

"Hmmm....oh, I know!"

Abner lay nearby, watching his master as he was gathering some items from the trash, his tools, and working on something. Eventually, his little eyes closed and he fell asleep, while Arnold worked into the night.

--~~--

It was a new day.

Helga arose from her slumber and came out of her pod, shrinking it to its pocket size, ready to face the day and continue her directive and-

"Huh? What the...?"

She stopped, taking in the sight of something sitting near her she hadn't seen before. It was a strangely made statue, made of pipe cleaners, welding tubes, all spray-painted white, a toilet rim for a head, a mop spray-painted yellow, with an old white sheet tied into a bow sitting on it. Along with that were two blue Christmas balls hanging in the toilet rim, like eyes. She realized it was a silly rendition of herself, though she had no idea why it was here or how it got there.

Helga snorted and stared at it before walking on. "Weird." She said to no one in particular. It didn't matter, she had to get back to her directive.

From where he was, Arnold sighed as his heart sank. Once more, a failed attempt to win her over. Sure his sculpting wasn't the best as his drawing, but at least he tried. Limited materials and time never did go hand-in-hand.

"Damn it." He muttered dejectedly, kicking a row of two-by-ten pipes.

Which of course then rolled out and over on top of him, making him fall to the ground. Once again, he'd also made a fool of himself in front of her.

This was not going well at all.