Oh kinrazza this is possible not quite what you had in mind
But this was all the prompt (and the four of them) would give me, sorry if it's made of fail.
*edit* Now with headers!
Title: Clothes do not make the mech
Setting: 2007 Moive
Rating PG
It had begun about a week after the scholar’s arrival Chronicus decided as he considered the construct before him, a flicker of an unknown Adumari in the corner of a camera had him almost calling for Aspiria before he realised that it was her holo form. Something was nagging at him about the construct so he twitched a few lines and considered it again. He’d watched as Aspiria had entered the room where their only current guest was working, he liked the scholar she didn’t seem bothered by the long silences in his rooms, or the lack of people bustling in the corridors. She'd sit in her chair by one of his windows and tell him tales of her travels and her people watching the stars go by for hours on end, it didn't seem right that such a powerful mind should be trapped in such a weak body, unable to move under its own power now and dependant on an external skeleton suit.
As his head of security entered the room the scholar had looked up and considered her form before in a surprisingly deep voice said "A corca era noble in deepest mourning, an interesting choice considering your races current situation."
Aspiria looked confused "Mourning? But these clothes aren't the deep colours of mourning."
"Not all cultures mourn in dark colours, for us the lighter the colour the deeper the mourning." came the reply.
They'd sat together long into the night discussing how different cultures expressed feelings and ritual through clothing, he'd listened intently as Liberias joined them and even Techne had finally come in to find out what all the fuss was about.
From then on in his three drones had seemed to take delight in testing the scholar, their holoforms turning up at random intervals as different races from different classes and times and timing how long it took for her to give the correct identification. So far she hadn't failed, how ever creative his drones had been. And now she was preparing to leave after several months studying, he compared the construct to his reference picture again and sharpened a crease before sending it to his holo emitters. This would test her knowledge of cultures; he'd be very impressed if she could work this one out.
Jocasta looked up from her slow packing as a human male entered the room, he moved in a way that told her this wasn't one of the drones. There was an air of loneliness around him that just didn't cling to either the twins or Aspiria and so far they'd all steered clear of homos sapiens for their holo forms.
"Chronicus I presume?" She smiled at him and dredging up what little she knew of earth custom triggered her frame to extend an arm hand up in welcome.
He bowed and turning the hand over gently touched the lips of his hologram to her hand, "In person, so to speak."
Her smile widened a little, all though perfectly in sync with the movements of his lips his voice didn't originate from the man before her but filled the room from all sides one of the few things that betrayed him as not real. She took her time in looking him over, a human male of mid height, dark hair with deep set eyes of the palest of blue. A long face with a squared off chin, slightly unshaven he was dresses in a suit of black almost as deep as the void outside her window, the shirt under it was as blue white as some of the stars. He came across as a gentle soul, not given to violence the sort of person who would aid a fellow life form from an innate sense of the rightness of the action. She paused for a moment to consider what he was and where he fitted into human history and in that moment something in the way he shifted his stance told a different story. A story of a being that operated close to the edge, which could, would and did use lethal force. Not willingly, not lightly but with few regrets if he had to, the handsome civil form covered a reluctant warrior.
“And a very handsome person” Jocasta replied “let me see, Homo sapiens, late 20th century? Not a famous historical person but on the way to a formal event. Black tie is the only way to dress for dinner.”
Chronicus smiled and nodded, “Correct on all points so far.”
“A fictional figure then, tricky.” Jocasta flicked her whip like tongue out absently as she tried to place him.
Chronicus waited patiently under her regard, he’d never admit it out loud but that prehensile tongue intrigued him as an indicator of her emotions. She opened her mouth to deliver a verdict when everything went to the pit, a searing laser blast split the void and all his alarms started to blare as a Decepticon war fleet swung out from the shadow of the gas giant they were passing.
Techne and Liberus came in at a dead run, holo forms cast aside weapons out and armed. Looking away from the twins to where Chronicus had stood Jocaster’s eyes widened a strange fusion of man and machine stood there, shoulder cannons balanced either side of his head and a long wicked looking gun in his hand.
“Take the scholar to the vaults, and then stand ready to repel any invaders.” Chronicus ordered voice harder and colder than before.
Any response the drones might have made was scuppered by Jocaster’s sudden sniggering; she got five very confused looks from drones, holoman and internal cameras as everyone tried to work out what was so funny.
She waived a hand at the still changing holoform, now sporting Chronicus’ mech head on a human body and orbited by small faithful holograms of the gun turrets that could be seen returning fire outside the window.
“Any” snigger “one of” giggle “the mythological gods with floating eyeballs?” she got out, even as she tried to get her frame to move to safety.
Chronicus smiled, grimly “My killing suit. Lack of wear means it needs working on.”
Jocasta stifled her amusement at the ridiculous mishmash of forms “I think the lack of use is a good thing.” Grins “I’ll look up some references for you to take your pick from when it’s over. The floating eyeballs look suits you.”
Techne could feel his twin’s amusement at the idea as they escorted Jocasta to the relative safety of the vaults, he was sure that in the coming days there’d be much more experimenting with holo forms and made a mental note to be very careful around statues or plants he didn’t recognise, the possibilities for practical jokes would be too tempting for Liberus to resist.
*edit* Now with headers!
Title: Clothes do not make the mech
Setting: 2007 Moive
Rating PG
It had begun about a week after the scholar’s arrival Chronicus decided as he considered the construct before him, a flicker of an unknown Adumari in the corner of a camera had him almost calling for Aspiria before he realised that it was her holo form. Something was nagging at him about the construct so he twitched a few lines and considered it again. He’d watched as Aspiria had entered the room where their only current guest was working, he liked the scholar she didn’t seem bothered by the long silences in his rooms, or the lack of people bustling in the corridors. She'd sit in her chair by one of his windows and tell him tales of her travels and her people watching the stars go by for hours on end, it didn't seem right that such a powerful mind should be trapped in such a weak body, unable to move under its own power now and dependant on an external skeleton suit.
As his head of security entered the room the scholar had looked up and considered her form before in a surprisingly deep voice said "A corca era noble in deepest mourning, an interesting choice considering your races current situation."
Aspiria looked confused "Mourning? But these clothes aren't the deep colours of mourning."
"Not all cultures mourn in dark colours, for us the lighter the colour the deeper the mourning." came the reply.
They'd sat together long into the night discussing how different cultures expressed feelings and ritual through clothing, he'd listened intently as Liberias joined them and even Techne had finally come in to find out what all the fuss was about.
From then on in his three drones had seemed to take delight in testing the scholar, their holoforms turning up at random intervals as different races from different classes and times and timing how long it took for her to give the correct identification. So far she hadn't failed, how ever creative his drones had been. And now she was preparing to leave after several months studying, he compared the construct to his reference picture again and sharpened a crease before sending it to his holo emitters. This would test her knowledge of cultures; he'd be very impressed if she could work this one out.
Jocasta looked up from her slow packing as a human male entered the room, he moved in a way that told her this wasn't one of the drones. There was an air of loneliness around him that just didn't cling to either the twins or Aspiria and so far they'd all steered clear of homos sapiens for their holo forms.
"Chronicus I presume?" She smiled at him and dredging up what little she knew of earth custom triggered her frame to extend an arm hand up in welcome.
He bowed and turning the hand over gently touched the lips of his hologram to her hand, "In person, so to speak."
Her smile widened a little, all though perfectly in sync with the movements of his lips his voice didn't originate from the man before her but filled the room from all sides one of the few things that betrayed him as not real. She took her time in looking him over, a human male of mid height, dark hair with deep set eyes of the palest of blue. A long face with a squared off chin, slightly unshaven he was dresses in a suit of black almost as deep as the void outside her window, the shirt under it was as blue white as some of the stars. He came across as a gentle soul, not given to violence the sort of person who would aid a fellow life form from an innate sense of the rightness of the action. She paused for a moment to consider what he was and where he fitted into human history and in that moment something in the way he shifted his stance told a different story. A story of a being that operated close to the edge, which could, would and did use lethal force. Not willingly, not lightly but with few regrets if he had to, the handsome civil form covered a reluctant warrior.
“And a very handsome person” Jocasta replied “let me see, Homo sapiens, late 20th century? Not a famous historical person but on the way to a formal event. Black tie is the only way to dress for dinner.”
Chronicus smiled and nodded, “Correct on all points so far.”
“A fictional figure then, tricky.” Jocasta flicked her whip like tongue out absently as she tried to place him.
Chronicus waited patiently under her regard, he’d never admit it out loud but that prehensile tongue intrigued him as an indicator of her emotions. She opened her mouth to deliver a verdict when everything went to the pit, a searing laser blast split the void and all his alarms started to blare as a Decepticon war fleet swung out from the shadow of the gas giant they were passing.
Techne and Liberus came in at a dead run, holo forms cast aside weapons out and armed. Looking away from the twins to where Chronicus had stood Jocaster’s eyes widened a strange fusion of man and machine stood there, shoulder cannons balanced either side of his head and a long wicked looking gun in his hand.
“Take the scholar to the vaults, and then stand ready to repel any invaders.” Chronicus ordered voice harder and colder than before.
Any response the drones might have made was scuppered by Jocaster’s sudden sniggering; she got five very confused looks from drones, holoman and internal cameras as everyone tried to work out what was so funny.
She waived a hand at the still changing holoform, now sporting Chronicus’ mech head on a human body and orbited by small faithful holograms of the gun turrets that could be seen returning fire outside the window.
“Any” snigger “one of” giggle “the mythological gods with floating eyeballs?” she got out, even as she tried to get her frame to move to safety.
Chronicus smiled, grimly “My killing suit. Lack of wear means it needs working on.”
Jocasta stifled her amusement at the ridiculous mishmash of forms “I think the lack of use is a good thing.” Grins “I’ll look up some references for you to take your pick from when it’s over. The floating eyeballs look suits you.”
Techne could feel his twin’s amusement at the idea as they escorted Jocasta to the relative safety of the vaults, he was sure that in the coming days there’d be much more experimenting with holo forms and made a mental note to be very careful around statues or plants he didn’t recognise, the possibilities for practical jokes would be too tempting for Liberus to resist.