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The Flying Crate

First of all, I needed to make functional/decent-looking armor. I needed something unique that would differentiate myself from everyone else, as well as adequately protect me.

As I stood there in the Foundry, desperately trying to come up with a good design, I found myself thinking of my childhood. The mischief I would cause, the games I would play, the pictures I would draw….. I mused on the last bit for a while, “the pictures I would draw”…..Wait! That’s it! I instantly began working on the blueprints for my armor.

I had remembered one picture in particular that I drew as a child, one of a robot. I clearly remembered how I tried to draw the lines as straight as I could, how I struggled to draw a good face, and how I ended up putting an upside-down triangle with three lines out the sides in the repeatedly erased spot. I remembered looking at the ‘face’ I had drawn, how I thought that it looked cool, and how I made it my ‘symbol’. I remembered how I drew it, over and over and over again in my little notebook.

I remembered my parents’ smiles as they complemented it, when in truth they were simply trying to satisfy me so I wouldn’t continue to bother them with it. I remembered my brother’s ridicule when I proudly displayed it to him…. But enough about the past, I needed to keep my mind in the present.

After the blueprints were finished, the actual crafting began. I modeled my armor after that robot I had drawn so many years ago, but with some changes to make it less childish and more practical. I fused various mechanisms to the armor that improved performance, and diminished damage. I had the face exactly like I had drawn it before, with a triangular visor and three lines out the sides.

Now my armor was completed! Well, almost completed. I wanted to give it a name, a title. What should I call it?

Again, my mind went back to my younger days... After drawing my ‘symbol’ repeatedly in my notebook, I had wanted to name it. The US flag was called ‘Stars and Stripes’ or ‘Red, White, and Blue’. Great Britain’s flag was called ‘The Union Jack’. What could I call mine? I remembered again how my brother laughed at it, and how he said with mockery in his voice, “it looks like some stupid flying crate thing”. I remembered how upset I felt as he walked away still laughing, but after I calmed down a bit, I had thought on what he said. “flying crate”. I rolled those words around in my little head for a few minutes, and then it hit me. “The Flying Crate”. That's what I’ll call it!

My thoughts drifted back to the matter at hand. Of course! The Flying Crate! What better name could I give it than that of my insignia? And so, with pride, I donned my new armor.

Yes. This’ll do nicely.