T-1000, Terminator 2: Judgment Day [Application]
((Already cleared this with the other Terminator canon player.
Check out my journal for info that may be relevant to how characters perceive the T-1000, e.g. T-1000s don't produce body heat, and presumably don't/can't simulate a human scent, which could explain why dogs can pick them out. I'm also fine with characters recognising him in a nudging-the-fourth-wall way (such as if the Terminator movies exist as fiction in their canon), but please don't break it.))
A highly reflective, metallic liquid had been dripping from the ceiling of the Sorting Room for several minutes. As it pooled, it slowly began to rise, its contours filling out into a humanoid shape. Its surface rippled and formed synthetic skin, pale eyes, short cropped hair. Soon it looked perfectly human.
Whip-thin and muscular, not to mention rather naked, it had the appearance of a man. The "man" methodically surveyed his surroundings, then stepped toward the sole object in the room -- a desk. He encountered some difficulty there, as his feet returned to a liquid metal state and took on the appearance of the stone floor against his will. A scan of his systems indicated acute internal damage in several sectors, possibly caused by whatever had brought him to this place, since he knew he hadn't arrived through the usual time travelling method. There was also an unusual field of energy that he could sense, and it was interfering with his functions -- he could not even recall where he'd been transported from, nor what his prime directive was.
Once his feet were cooperating again, he finished his trek to the desk and looked it over. Parchment was strewn across it, there was a bottle of ink, and a quill hovered expectantly. With a final glance at his surroundings, he leant down to examine the quill. Almost as an afterthought, a nondescript police uniform bled out from his skin to "clothe" him. He did remember that nudity tended to startle people, and it seemed best to avoid that while figuring out what was going on.
State your full name.
Whatever chance he'd had of passing for human was already compromised now, and with some of his chief processors struggling to operate, he was finding it difficult to lie even to protect his identity.
"Cyberdyne Systems Series 1000, advanced prototype." The pseudo-skin of his face flickered tellingly, a glitched horizontal band crawling from his neck up to his hair as he watched the enchanted quill record his response. It deftly evaded his attempt to touch it.
A feeling akin to anxiety followed his answer. He wasn't sure he'd meant to say that. He began to recalibrate his systems as much as he could in their present state, hoping not to slip like that again.
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
Irrelevant. I can't eat.
Those were his thoughts, and with considerable effort he managed not to voice them this time. Instead he explained, "I don't care much for cheese." An unnaturally long pause. "Dairy allergy."
An improvement.
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
This was the first question to cause a noticeable shift in his expression -- for the briefest moment, he wore the vacant look one might expect of a living computer that was querying its databases for a sufficient answer. Another glitch. It could be mistaken for shock. His features settled into a more animated, contemplative look afterward.
"Now what makes you think I'd want to go and do a thing like that?" he asked with confusion that was only partially feigned. If his arrival had been anticipated, and his true nature was already known, he could drop the monkey act. But if not...
3. What time is it where you are?
His internal chronometer offered a baffling read-out, causing his answer to sound almost like a question.
"The year 2011."
He knew he'd been manufactured in 2029, and had the vague notion that he was supposed to have been sent back in time to the mid-1990s. Neither of which explained what he was doing here. Had he already completed his original mission?
More importantly, what was his mission?
4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.
He could easily assume the form of any beings of similar size to him, but in light of the rest of the question, he deemed the information irrelevant and was thankfully spared the impetus to share.
This is outside the scope of my present abilities, he wanted to say, but knew it wouldn't sound quite right. He had to think.
Skynet had never required its Terminator Infiltration units to engage humans in that particular way, which meant his response options were limited with such a question.
"I don't know any of these people," he eventually answered. "Maybe you could explain who they are, and what this order does, assuming its purpose extends beyond sexual harassment of its members."
The quill offered no answer, simply moved on to the next question.
5. If you are pushing to be in:
A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
The entire questionnaire increasingly reeked of human design. Best to continue thinking like one, then.
"Infrared," he decided. "Patrons could think of it as a name and suggestion both."
He'd not been pre-programmed to be creative, it was something infiltration units had to learn on their own. He still had a long way to go.
B. Gryffindor - Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
"You're asking me a lot of questions about people I don't know." His voice was carefully modulated to give the impression of apologetic incredulity. A non-answer seemed safer than a wrong one.
C. Ravenclaw - You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, though it never reached his eyes.
"You ought to get a computer."
D. Hufflepuff - Prove you are not useless.
How does one prove something so subjective? He was immensely useful as an assassination weapon, he knew, and with his CPU set to Read-write by default, potentially useful in much broader ways. The more he interacted with humans... the more easily he could pass for one himself.
"Who requires this proof?" he wondered, peering down at one of his hands, which was slowly returning to its default metallic state. A nervous flick of his fingers reversed it, the synthetic human skin returning.
6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.
"If your questionnaire is any indication of what you want, I may not have much to offer, I'm afraid," he said dryly, and held his arms out to illustrate that he had nothing but the pseudo-clothes on his back. He'd opted against simulating the appearance of a gun anywhere on his person. Unfortunately, his calculated effort to appear harmless was about as effective as a leopard pretending to be a house cat. He may not be as physically intimidating as the slower, bulkier Governator 800 series, but he was a far more elegant and precise weapon, and his every movement reflected this fact even in his current damaged state.
I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. T-1000
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. T-1000
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. T-1000
One day, marmalade machines will rule the world. T-1000
Check out my journal for info that may be relevant to how characters perceive the T-1000, e.g. T-1000s don't produce body heat, and presumably don't/can't simulate a human scent, which could explain why dogs can pick them out. I'm also fine with characters recognising him in a nudging-the-fourth-wall way (such as if the Terminator movies exist as fiction in their canon), but please don't break it.))
A highly reflective, metallic liquid had been dripping from the ceiling of the Sorting Room for several minutes. As it pooled, it slowly began to rise, its contours filling out into a humanoid shape. Its surface rippled and formed synthetic skin, pale eyes, short cropped hair. Soon it looked perfectly human.
Whip-thin and muscular, not to mention rather naked, it had the appearance of a man. The "man" methodically surveyed his surroundings, then stepped toward the sole object in the room -- a desk. He encountered some difficulty there, as his feet returned to a liquid metal state and took on the appearance of the stone floor against his will. A scan of his systems indicated acute internal damage in several sectors, possibly caused by whatever had brought him to this place, since he knew he hadn't arrived through the usual time travelling method. There was also an unusual field of energy that he could sense, and it was interfering with his functions -- he could not even recall where he'd been transported from, nor what his prime directive was.
Once his feet were cooperating again, he finished his trek to the desk and looked it over. Parchment was strewn across it, there was a bottle of ink, and a quill hovered expectantly. With a final glance at his surroundings, he leant down to examine the quill. Almost as an afterthought, a nondescript police uniform bled out from his skin to "clothe" him. He did remember that nudity tended to startle people, and it seemed best to avoid that while figuring out what was going on.
State your full name.
Whatever chance he'd had of passing for human was already compromised now, and with some of his chief processors struggling to operate, he was finding it difficult to lie even to protect his identity.
"Cyberdyne Systems Series 1000, advanced prototype." The pseudo-skin of his face flickered tellingly, a glitched horizontal band crawling from his neck up to his hair as he watched the enchanted quill record his response. It deftly evaded his attempt to touch it.
A feeling akin to anxiety followed his answer. He wasn't sure he'd meant to say that. He began to recalibrate his systems as much as he could in their present state, hoping not to slip like that again.
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
Irrelevant. I can't eat.
Those were his thoughts, and with considerable effort he managed not to voice them this time. Instead he explained, "I don't care much for cheese." An unnaturally long pause. "Dairy allergy."
An improvement.
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
This was the first question to cause a noticeable shift in his expression -- for the briefest moment, he wore the vacant look one might expect of a living computer that was querying its databases for a sufficient answer. Another glitch. It could be mistaken for shock. His features settled into a more animated, contemplative look afterward.
"Now what makes you think I'd want to go and do a thing like that?" he asked with confusion that was only partially feigned. If his arrival had been anticipated, and his true nature was already known, he could drop the monkey act. But if not...
3. What time is it where you are?
His internal chronometer offered a baffling read-out, causing his answer to sound almost like a question.
"The year 2011."
He knew he'd been manufactured in 2029, and had the vague notion that he was supposed to have been sent back in time to the mid-1990s. Neither of which explained what he was doing here. Had he already completed his original mission?
More importantly, what was his mission?
4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.
He could easily assume the form of any beings of similar size to him, but in light of the rest of the question, he deemed the information irrelevant and was thankfully spared the impetus to share.
This is outside the scope of my present abilities, he wanted to say, but knew it wouldn't sound quite right. He had to think.
Skynet had never required its Terminator Infiltration units to engage humans in that particular way, which meant his response options were limited with such a question.
"I don't know any of these people," he eventually answered. "Maybe you could explain who they are, and what this order does, assuming its purpose extends beyond sexual harassment of its members."
The quill offered no answer, simply moved on to the next question.
5. If you are pushing to be in:
A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
The entire questionnaire increasingly reeked of human design. Best to continue thinking like one, then.
"Infrared," he decided. "Patrons could think of it as a name and suggestion both."
He'd not been pre-programmed to be creative, it was something infiltration units had to learn on their own. He still had a long way to go.
B. Gryffindor - Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
"You're asking me a lot of questions about people I don't know." His voice was carefully modulated to give the impression of apologetic incredulity. A non-answer seemed safer than a wrong one.
C. Ravenclaw - You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, though it never reached his eyes.
"You ought to get a computer."
D. Hufflepuff - Prove you are not useless.
How does one prove something so subjective? He was immensely useful as an assassination weapon, he knew, and with his CPU set to Read-write by default, potentially useful in much broader ways. The more he interacted with humans... the more easily he could pass for one himself.
"Who requires this proof?" he wondered, peering down at one of his hands, which was slowly returning to its default metallic state. A nervous flick of his fingers reversed it, the synthetic human skin returning.
6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.
"If your questionnaire is any indication of what you want, I may not have much to offer, I'm afraid," he said dryly, and held his arms out to illustrate that he had nothing but the pseudo-clothes on his back. He'd opted against simulating the appearance of a gun anywhere on his person. Unfortunately, his calculated effort to appear harmless was about as effective as a leopard pretending to be a house cat. He may not be as physically intimidating as the slower, bulkier Governator 800 series, but he was a far more elegant and precise weapon, and his every movement reflected this fact even in his current damaged state.
I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. T-1000
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. T-1000
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. T-1000
One day, marmalade machines will rule the world. T-1000