Redhawk Caldera (M) Turn on your record player and run into a world of beautiful collaboration.

Out he plopped. 

Already surrounded by a sphere of uncertainty, which was popped and pulled away. Shoved towards a series of feeding tubes and told, 'eat!' by his own inner workings. He did not know if he was hungry yet, there was no way to categorize the sensations flooding his senses. 

A nubbin of a nipple probed at his face and went up his nose, and he tried to shake his head. Tried, being the operative term. Some crossed wires made him splay out his legs instead and kick back his heels, effectively star-fishing against the floor. Not a peep from him though — confusion and cold equally observed in silence. At most he might have tooted. His sister's wailing overshadowed his existence completely at this point.