Drabble 1

The solid plastic of the armrest pressing into his head  wasn't comfortable by anyone's standards, and at his angle, neither was the thick strip of padding that made up the seat of the chair against the upper part of his back. He couldn't say he especially minded this, though, he was too filled with a strange sort of appreciation that he could be here. The clinging gloom and negativity of this underground facility never stuck in him, its darkness spiraled harmlessly about and left him without the extra weight of depression it forced upon most people. For him, it had become a thing of expectation, a very simple promise of something to do. However, none of these properties were prominently connected to the laboratory itself. They spilled off from the essence of the building's primary occupant, a figure was currently perched in his chair after a forced absence that had lasted for far too long.

A few days before, Kururu would have destroyed the lab and all the equipment inside by trying to enter, and  he wouldn't have given a second thought to breaking what was more or less his life; he might even have delighted in it, if the command was given by that one-time dragon master. He closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest, releasing a half of a breath as the recollection came, something far more uncomfortable than his position against the chair.

“Kuku... Something wrong?” Kururu didn't shift to look at Saburo, keeping his eyes solidly on the harsh glow of the computer, but the clacking of keys fell out of the air as he ceased typing. It seemed that he had deemed the Pekoponian worthy of receiving his full attention for the moment.

“No,” Saburo answered truthfully enough, matching his Keronian companion for stillness. “At least, not to my knowledge.” He sighed lightly before continuing. “At this point, if you know about something, just keep it to yourself. I'm sure I'd figure it out on my own soon enough, hmm?”