Jetstorm (
still_learning) wrote in
kismet_loop2015-07-18 07:03 pm
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Entry tags:
[accidental video]
[It's been a few days since the end of the explosions that have been following him and others throughout the place. Jetstorm wasn't alone during that time, not entirely, but now that it's over, he's getting time to think about what all has happened. Who he was left with, the world he finds himself in now, the idea that they could all find themselves under attack again at any time, for any or no reason at all.]
I am a warrior.
[Where he is now isn't clear, but by the absence of sound in the room but for what Jetstorm himself makes, it's clear he's alone. If his feet could wear a path in the ground walking the same circle over and over, they would. There is no indication for how long he has been walking like this, one end of his nunchucks in each hand as if he thought he might need it. He seems fretful as he argues with himself, and completely oblivious to the little drone close by, silently recording everything.]
I am strong. I am swift.
[His hands lower and he doesn't seem to notice it or care. One hand lets go of a grip to reach up and rub down his face. A few paces later, his other hand goes a little too slack and his weapon goes down to the ground with a clatter. The Minicon looks down at it in horror with a cry.]
Ah! No!
[In a rush, he darts down to retrieve his nunchucks and clutches them in front of him again, grip renewed. One hand pulls into his subspace to retrieve the only other item he has ever carried on his person: a cleaning cloth. With a whimper, he steps over to sit down on a small stool that may or may not have been for a bot his size, or perhaps for a human, and begins to methodically wipe down his weapon from one end to the other, always in small, counter clockwise circles.]
Most humble apologies, Master Drift.
[But his fingers are trembling. He misses spots, only to go back and work over them again.]
I am strong... I am...
[Finally, he gives in and hugs his knees to himself, pinning his nunchucks against him, and shivers.]
I am a warrior.
[Where he is now isn't clear, but by the absence of sound in the room but for what Jetstorm himself makes, it's clear he's alone. If his feet could wear a path in the ground walking the same circle over and over, they would. There is no indication for how long he has been walking like this, one end of his nunchucks in each hand as if he thought he might need it. He seems fretful as he argues with himself, and completely oblivious to the little drone close by, silently recording everything.]
I am strong. I am swift.
[His hands lower and he doesn't seem to notice it or care. One hand lets go of a grip to reach up and rub down his face. A few paces later, his other hand goes a little too slack and his weapon goes down to the ground with a clatter. The Minicon looks down at it in horror with a cry.]
Ah! No!
[In a rush, he darts down to retrieve his nunchucks and clutches them in front of him again, grip renewed. One hand pulls into his subspace to retrieve the only other item he has ever carried on his person: a cleaning cloth. With a whimper, he steps over to sit down on a small stool that may or may not have been for a bot his size, or perhaps for a human, and begins to methodically wipe down his weapon from one end to the other, always in small, counter clockwise circles.]
Most humble apologies, Master Drift.
[But his fingers are trembling. He misses spots, only to go back and work over them again.]
I am strong... I am...
[Finally, he gives in and hugs his knees to himself, pinning his nunchucks against him, and shivers.]
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Huh. I ask mostly cause I had to wonder at hearing 'commander.'
[She nods.]
Okay, so most video games are simulations---fighting, or racing, or piloting, or even photo-safariing---where you've got controls with just a few buttons, as they are more for fun than any actual training.
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[He ducks his head and steps over to pretend to look at a statue or something. LOOK HOW NEAT.]
Young, you could say. Some two hundred Earth years, I believe is the translation. I could be wrong. [Odds are, he is wrong. But he'll look back at her at mention of what video games are.]
Maybe that was what he showed us. Commander Russel asked us if we wanted to "play." To play is how one has fun, but I could not see it. Then he showed us a keyboard to control the simulation. It sounds like what you describe. Perhaps it was a video game.
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It's actually really nice to be meeting a Cybertronian someone with an age that actually fits my sense of---of chronological scale, instead of passing that plateau of 'absurdly old.' That said, I'm young, too.
[She nods again.]
We---that is, Hiro and I---got a racing game, among a couple of others. Whenever you come over for a movie, we'd both be happy to show you. If you're interested.
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I can sympathize. A human is closer in age to me in Earth years lived than most I knew from Cybertron, but it is harder to tell. We do not grow as you do. When we wake, we are all that we will ever naturally be.
[But games? Racing games? Things where he can actually move?] What are they like?
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[Old enough to tease the teenagers, but---as she's said---young, yet.]
Well, you have a little cart to steer through a variety of set tracks, some of which have hazards to avoid, or 'secret' short-cuts to uncover. The other carts are controlled by other players and the game program, and don't just try to crowd you out of the running---they can attack you, or set traps, if they get the right power-up item. They're sometimes frustrating, but fun.
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Oh. [And explanation of games time! He's rather fascinated by it. Very fascinated by it, actually.] It sounds like training to use an alternate form, if such a thing were needed. Almost.
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It kinda could be, especially in some other games where the point-of-view's first-person.
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I would like to see this. [Because that sounds like the closest he'll ever come to having a true alt mode of his own. So jelly.]
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But how does this help if ever one needs to use or become such a vehicle?
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[And those f---king blue shells.]
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Are... banana peels dangerous?
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Only insofar as they're slippery.
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Then, I would like not to drive on them, even in a simulator.
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[you have not overheard a kart session, but the day is coming]
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Ah. I understand. I think?
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[That might mitigate some uncertainty and/or horror, especially with what one might happen to overhear; it really is all in fun.]
Speaking of seeing, y'wanna start with the sheet music, or...?
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I would not mind. If you are in a hurry to find what you need, I can start looking on my own. This does not look too different than the archives back home.
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[She considers for a moment, since she's spent most of her time in the library in only two or three sections.]
I think... this way. And yeah? No doubt it's nice to have something sorta familiar.
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Familiar, in a way. I do not think it will be hard to find a way around. Is it?
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