Monster High Wiki
Advertisement
Icon - Robecca Steam
Several Monster High dolls come with a diary belonging to the respective character. Select a character to read their individual diary, or click here for an overview on the diary continuity.
You are reading
the 'SDCCI' diary of
Robecca Steam
Cleo de Nile - Djinni "Whisp" Grant - Frankie Stein - Ghoulia Yelps (2011) - Ghoulia Yelps (2017) - Hoodude Voodoo - Iris Clops - Kieran Valentine - Manny Taur - Scarah Screams - Wydowna Spider

Cover[]

15 October[]

I must admit, there are days when I feel like some quaint relic from a bygone age of monsters. Oh, wait... I am! Perhaps if my father had not been lost, or I had not been dismantled and forgotten after that SKRM accident, I would have, like my other friends, naturally progressed from the Age of Steam to the Age of Digital. Alas, that has not been my fate. Normally, I do not dwell on such things, but my fire always burns the lowest on the date of my father's disappearance. Kindly enough, my friends, understand this and give me my space on this day. The exception being the Steins, who always send me a tin of my favorite ginger tea and a note to remind me that 'now is not forever', and to not forgive up hope. It is a mercy to me and one that I treasure. Although I know it is not the beginning of the true New Year, I see it as such, and tomorrow I will begin another year of expectation that Father will find his way home.

1 November[]

Many things have changed in the years since I was dismantled and rebuilt; styles, technology, transportation, manner of speaking, etc.. but there is something that still remains its familiarity: the kindness of others. I was reminded of that again today when Ghoulia and Cleo arrived with a large box of books and articles about Father. Ghoulia has long been interested in the mystery of his disappearance and the speculation that surrounds it, but I was surprised that Cleo accompanied her. Cleo has always treated me kindly enough, but I never thought we had anything in common until today when she told me that her mother was lost somewhere in the catacombs as well. "Father has searched for ages, and though he won't say it, I think he has given up hope of ever finding her. I have not." I cannot commit to paper the conversation that followed, for there are some things in unlife that are best left inscribed on the heart where age and time cannot cause them, like ink, to fade away and disappear.

10 November[]

Sadly, I recently found out the supposed message from my father found written on a wall in the catacombs was, in fact, a hoax perpetrated by a skelevison show doing a 'documentary' on Father. It made me sadder still, reading through the material Ghoulia had left, as it led me to discover that Father was not widely respected by many of the mad scientists of his time. Yet, I cannot recall him being less than enthusiastic about what he believed or bitter toward those who did not share his beliefs. His theory that the catacombs were created by a vanished race of advanced monsters, whom he referred to at 'The Builders', was especially criticized. In one article that literally made steam pour from my ears, the writer said Father's ideas were the "ravings of a monster who has clearly come untethered from his moorings". Father would be gratified to know that less than twenty years after his disappearance, the Monster Institute of Technology established an entire department dedicated to the study of the Builders. Ghoulia even told me that Kjersti Trollson's parents have spent their entire unlives finding and studying the Builders artifacts and ruins, many of which exist a level below the catacombs. Which makes me wonder...

20 November[]

I have too long sat idly by watching. Would Father have done the same were I the one lost? By my boiler, he would not have. So I shall go and find him. I have told Ms. K that tomorrow I am going to spend some time in Father's lab, which is true, but only long enough to collect some supplies and leave a note detailing my intentions. By the time I have been gone long enough to raise concerns, it will be the first place they will check. The note will be found, but I shall be too far away by then for any monster to come after me. I must therefore go about my daily routine as if nothing is amiss. I intend to raise no suspicions that might provoke an intervention, and I will leave Caption Penny here as well, though it pains me to do so, for his over-protective nature would trump his companionship, and I believe he would sing like a kettle coming to boil thus ruining my intentions. Now then, my mind is made up, and no monster can stop me.

21 November[]

I made it to Father's lab without incident this morning and was just placing the final items in my rucksack when I heard the door to the lab open. It startled me, and I whirled, scattering everything I had just packed. Ghoulia! Burst my boiler, but she seems to appear in the most unexpected of places at the most unexpected of times. We both stared at each other for a moment, and then she bent down to pick up my note, which had landed at her feet. She briefly glanced at it and then handed it back to me. Ghoulia didn't say anything; she simply helped me pick up the rest of my supplies. Finally, when everything had been put back in place, she looked me in the eye and asked, "Do you have a plan?"

28 November[]

It has been a week now since I left in search of Father, and I've been grateful to my gears that Ghoulia showed up when she did. I must admit, at first, seeing her felt like old water had been poured into my boiler. Father always told me that a secret ceases to be if more than one person knows it. Although, if any monster can be trusted with information you do not wish to be bandied about, it is Ghoulia. Despite that, I did not want her to get into hot water for knowing my intentions and now were-ratting me out, and for her part, Ghoulia did not want me to end up forever lost in the catacombs. So we agreed upon a compromise. She would not reveal my plans until I had allotted for having my note 'discovered' if I would wear a tracking device of Ghoulia's own design. She said it could also act as a distress beacon and instructed me in its use. I was hesitant at first, but Ghoulia was rather adamant about it, so in the end, I agreed. I must admit that it does provide me with a measure of comfort to know that were Father to suddenly appear while I was out looking for him, he would not find himself as blindly searching for me as I for him. Well, perhaps not quite as blind as I might have been without Ghoulia's help. Point, in fact, I was now in possession of a map.. of sorts. It was because of the map that Ghoulia showed up to Father's lab when she did. I am mystified as to how she found out from Ms.K where I was and then managed to arrive so quickly. If I did not know any better, I would believe that she actually walks through walls when no one is watching. But I digress.. the map was just a small section of a larger one Kjersti's parents had found, which gave the location of Builder portals: strange metal doors held fast by intricate locking mechanisms. Kjersti told Ghoulia that when she was just trolling, she had once opened a puzzle box that used a similar mechanism and had written directions in the margins of the map. I do hope that if... when... I find the portal, I am up to the task of opening it.

12 December[]

Much to its credit, the map was accurate in leading me to the location of the portal. Much to my dismay, the locking mechanism bears no resemblance to the one described by Kjersti, mostly due to THE TOTAL ABSENCE OF EVEN SO MUCH AS A KEYHOLE!! It frosts my firebox to think I have come all this way, with so much hope in my heart, only to sit and stare at a door with a surface as smooth as a pane of glass. The sitting and staring came after the pushing, pounding, kicking, yelling, and crying. My fire has burned so low that I must take care not to let it go out. What am I to do now? Do I continue to search in hopes of finding another portal, or should I just return home and resume my long wait? I am far too exhausted to make a decision. I must think about this a bit.

13 December[]

Regulators and rivets! I opened the door! I wish I could claim it was a result of my own cleverness, but I suppose I must rather attribute it to my own petulance. I had just about made up my mind to swallow my pride and return home to whatever consequences awaited me as I sat with my back to the wall across from the door, idly bouncing stones off it like some naughty goblin child. My last throw came in conjunction with my decision to leave, and I put all my frustration into it. This caused the stone to come ricocheting straight back to me. I ducked, but instead of bouncing off the wall behind me, the stone passed through. I thought I must have imagined it, but no, the stone was nowhere to be found. I turned and began to feel along the wall, and my hand passed through one of the bricks. Startled, I withdrew my hand and cautiously pushed it through again. Past the illusion of the wall was a metal bow, and I could feel the missing stone and something else. A lever! I pulled it, and the door opened on a middle hinge, revealing a set of stairs leading down into darkness. Then something even more inexplicable happened... I began to laugh. It started as a giggle, but that was merely the snowflake that brings down the avalanche, for soon I was rolling about on the floor of the tunnel like my boiler had been filled with soda water, and every bubble rushed straight to my funny gear. I daresay if any monster would have happened upon me at that moment, they might have suggested several of my screws were in need of tightening. When I finally regained my composure, I found I had also regained my hope and determination. I am on my way Father. I am on my way

?????[]

Somewhere above, I know the sun still rises and sets as monsters go about their daily unlives, but for me, there is just the dill twilight glow of the Builders tunnels. I have not seen another monster since I waved goodbye to Ghoulia... years ago? No, even as time-challenged as I am, I know it hasn't been that long. I have also grown weary of the absolute silence. "FATHER, WHERE ARE YOU?!!" Shouting like that just makes me lonelier still. Perhaps I shall be known as the ghoul who cried "Werewolf!" but I fear I must ask for help. So I am going to activate the distress beacon on the tracker Ghoulia gave me. I shall rest for a bit now, and continue on the morrow.. or as close as I can guess to when that actually is.

New Years![]

When I saw the tracks in the dust, I just stood there staring down at them like a monster who had just witnessed an impossibly clever magic trick. It makes sense to your eyes but not to your brain. Next I knew, my feet were flying up the tunnel and into the arms of my father. Oh, my gears.. oh my gears...

1 February - Confirmed[]

Father said it would be remiss of me not to record the events after I found him, and although it seems to me the whole episode is worthy of a novel itself, I shall refrain from engaging in every detail. It was as wonderful a reunion as I could have dreamt of, save for a brief rebuke from Father for using a tracking device made by a Builders. "Their tools are unpredictable and do not always function the way you think they will." I started to explain, but Father has a way of putting the brake on certain discussions, so I decided rather to focus on finding a way of opening the fifth door. It took more than a little looking to find the door's hidden lever, and I had begun to wonder if perhaps I should start throwing rocks at it. Oh, but when I did finally open the door, I was not prepared for that which I found. A mummy, floating in a column of blue light, arms and legs wrapped in bandages, her dark hair pooled around an unknown yet strangely familiar face. I could hear a commotion coming from the main hall, but I paid it no mind to it. I lowered her down with the controls and made sure I had enough steam built up so that my skin would be warm, for I knew she would be cold. I cannot say how she might have reacted to seeing me in other circumstances, but she gravitated to and seemed thankful for the warmth. She said something to me that I did not understand, which made me wish I had paid better attention in Dead Languages class. The voices from the main hall grew louder, and in them were the voices of my classmates. The rescue party! I got up to go, but it was plain the mummy didn't want to stay behind, so I helped her up, and we made our way out. Everyone stopped when they saw us, except Cleo, who stepped forward as if in a trance. Then I knew why the mummy's face looked so familiar; I had seen a younger version of it every day in the halls and classrooms of Monster High. As Cleo ran to embrace her mother, I stepped out of the way to give them room and was quite surprised to find myself pulled back in by Cleo, who embraced me with such fierceness that I thought it might leave a dent. Then she whispered in my ear, "I am in your debt forever, Robecca Steam, but if you tell anyone I said it, I'll swear you have a rivet loose." I told her I could unlive with that.

I must admit that I snuck away for some quiet time and a bit of mental maintenance after this. Father found me and sat down next to me. I leaned my head against his shoulder and confessed to feeling both elated and weary. He hugged me tight and said, "You have been both the recipient of and witness to, longed-for hopes fulfilled. It is a rare gift. Treasure it always." I told him I would as I fell into the beast sleep I've had in a century.

Advertisement