Do Robots Dream of Electric Sheep?
[Images and voices slipped through Inferno's sub-proccessor, flitting through his awareness like a school of silvery fish in the ocean. The memories of the past few days were being organized and slotted away for future use. But it was strange; he'd only been online for two years, there was no reason he should haven been running out of memory space. Perhaps he was retaining too much useless information? He'd do a defrag while he was still in stasis, just in case.
When he came online again, there was only one mech in the room, straightening up overturned furniture, looking infinitely pleased with himself. It was one of his social studies sstudents, a smooth talking muscle car whose smile always made him swoon (even if it was only mentally).
“Taurino? What are you...?”
“Oh, hey Prof, you're awake,” the Predacon looked over and flashed that maddening smile, turning to face the coptor. “You crashed at the meet, so me and some of the other guys took you home. I sent the others packing.”
“Ah, thank you, that was very kind, but you did not need to stay...”
He gasped as the other mech was suddenly kneeling at his side, his hand cupping the side of his face.
“Yeah Prof, I really kinda did.”
Graduation. The first graduation. His Predacons had done well, despite the prejudice and tribulations stacked against them. Taurino had done well - better than the rest, really, but he had a rather unfair advantage. He felt rather ashamed of himself for caving into the student's attention, but no one had ever shown such interest in him before, and really, he made sure the mucle car earned his grades in class, all he'd really done was given him a little extra tutoring, and besides, he was graduating now. It wouldn't be such a crime to see him now. No, it really wouldn't.
But just like the rest of his class, as soon as he had his degree, Taurino walked out the door of the academy without a second glance. There wasn't even one last smile for the quiet, awkward teacher who had given more than was asked of him, no final farewell. Just an orange retreating back and triumphant smirk.
He'd never felt so used.
He was sitting at a desk, a stack of applications pulled up on the computer screen. There were a few less than last year, and as disappointing as that was, it was a relief to know he would not have to send out too many rejection notices. He hated turning down students, but there were only so many slots to be filled.
Sighing tiredly, he pulled up the first applicant; it was the first one turned in, almost within an hour after the registration period had began. He glanced at the name - Scorponok - and smiled to himself. There was something spark-warming about young bots honoring their ancestors.
He jerked his head up as someone spoke, the unfamiliar voice catching him off guard. There wasn't supposed to be anyone around, except for a few teachers preparing for the new semester. He did have orientation with his latest batch of Predacons, but that wasn't for a while yet. Still, he couldn't just brush the other mech off, that would be rude. “Ah, yes? How may I help you?”
He smiled to himself as the mech came closer, a look of relief flashing over his face. Ah, so it was a lost student, and oh my, one of his too! He glanced him over, he appeared to be a construction vehicle, a crane, how silly of him, of course he was a Predacon! And so hopelessly lost too, the poor thing.
He assured the young mech they were headed in the same direction, and offered to show him the way. There was a moment of uncertainty, then he relented, and together headed toward the Secondary Meeting Hall. He chattered the whole way, pleased to have a chance to talk to one of his students before classes began. The crane's answers were short and to the point, but it didn't matter, the other mech was still probably uncertain, after all, Maximal Kindness was generally in limited supply when it came to Predacons, and he was glad for what information he could pull from the student. It sounded like he needed to talk to the registers about sensitivity again.
He left the mech outside the meeting hall with a faint smile and headed off to his office. He had a few notes to pick up before he could meet the rest of the class, but then he'd be ready to start another difficult school year.
When he came online again, there was only one mech in the room, straightening up overturned furniture, looking infinitely pleased with himself. It was one of his social studies sstudents, a smooth talking muscle car whose smile always made him swoon (even if it was only mentally).
“Taurino? What are you...?”
“Oh, hey Prof, you're awake,” the Predacon looked over and flashed that maddening smile, turning to face the coptor. “You crashed at the meet, so me and some of the other guys took you home. I sent the others packing.”
“Ah, thank you, that was very kind, but you did not need to stay...”
He gasped as the other mech was suddenly kneeling at his side, his hand cupping the side of his face.
“Yeah Prof, I really kinda did.”
Graduation. The first graduation. His Predacons had done well, despite the prejudice and tribulations stacked against them. Taurino had done well - better than the rest, really, but he had a rather unfair advantage. He felt rather ashamed of himself for caving into the student's attention, but no one had ever shown such interest in him before, and really, he made sure the mucle car earned his grades in class, all he'd really done was given him a little extra tutoring, and besides, he was graduating now. It wouldn't be such a crime to see him now. No, it really wouldn't.
But just like the rest of his class, as soon as he had his degree, Taurino walked out the door of the academy without a second glance. There wasn't even one last smile for the quiet, awkward teacher who had given more than was asked of him, no final farewell. Just an orange retreating back and triumphant smirk.
He'd never felt so used.
He was sitting at a desk, a stack of applications pulled up on the computer screen. There were a few less than last year, and as disappointing as that was, it was a relief to know he would not have to send out too many rejection notices. He hated turning down students, but there were only so many slots to be filled.
Sighing tiredly, he pulled up the first applicant; it was the first one turned in, almost within an hour after the registration period had began. He glanced at the name - Scorponok - and smiled to himself. There was something spark-warming about young bots honoring their ancestors.
He jerked his head up as someone spoke, the unfamiliar voice catching him off guard. There wasn't supposed to be anyone around, except for a few teachers preparing for the new semester. He did have orientation with his latest batch of Predacons, but that wasn't for a while yet. Still, he couldn't just brush the other mech off, that would be rude. “Ah, yes? How may I help you?”
He smiled to himself as the mech came closer, a look of relief flashing over his face. Ah, so it was a lost student, and oh my, one of his too! He glanced him over, he appeared to be a construction vehicle, a crane, how silly of him, of course he was a Predacon! And so hopelessly lost too, the poor thing.
He assured the young mech they were headed in the same direction, and offered to show him the way. There was a moment of uncertainty, then he relented, and together headed toward the Secondary Meeting Hall. He chattered the whole way, pleased to have a chance to talk to one of his students before classes began. The crane's answers were short and to the point, but it didn't matter, the other mech was still probably uncertain, after all, Maximal Kindness was generally in limited supply when it came to Predacons, and he was glad for what information he could pull from the student. It sounded like he needed to talk to the registers about sensitivity again.
He left the mech outside the meeting hall with a faint smile and headed off to his office. He had a few notes to pick up before he could meet the rest of the class, but then he'd be ready to start another difficult school year.