robothell | i didn't kill bambis mom i only skinned her

Entry tags:

i didn't kill bambis mom i only skinned her

Who: Newton Geiszler AND YOOOOOU
Where: Where the deer have been gathering near the outskirts of the city
When: WHENEVER
What: Newt has decided he's not dead so he might as well start studying the flora and fauna of cybertron. And that means dissection! :D
Warnings: Other than nitrodeer gore (????) and Newt I guess.

Man, not having anything to transcribe his dictaphone onto or spare tapes is really starting to piss him off. Look, it's not like he knew to pack for an adventure to another planet, and he really doesn't want to overwrite whats already on the tape regarding the drift with the kaiju brain in case he does find his way back. But this is seriously fascinating stuff! And the itch to document, discover and draw detailed diagrams on the flora and fauna has been incredibly hard to ignore. He's a scientist! It's what he does!

He'd originally gone on a walk--nearer the outskirts to avoid being trodden on by giant cybertronian feet who aren't looking where they are going--to try and clear his thoughts and look at the new plant life he'd seen a few days before, but he hadn't expected encountering a herd of the strange creatures that had started showing up. He's been calling them 'Pixel Deer', because they look like they should belong in a brightly coloured arcade game from the 80's. The first thing he considers is whether or not they'd be edible because seriously that fruit is going to kill him from boredom, but it's pretty easy to gather from the way they transformed into stackable cubes that they're probably closer in origin to the Cybertronians themselves. So pixelated venison wasn't going to be on the menu anytime soon.

He almost manages to sneak up on the herd to get a better look, but something sets them off and they bound off in the opposite direction quickly. Newt almost thinks all is lost, but one remains behind, it's cubed leg sparking and leaking fluid, trying to follow after the group but struggling due to a severe malfunction somewhere inside the wiring. Or, at least, he assumes it's wiring. It could be anything.

Newt keeps his distance, watching it as it kneels onto the ground, the sparking getting worse before it eventually darkens, fluid bubbling and hissing as the inner-workings grind to a halt. And thats when he leaps into action. This is definitely one for the dictaphone, battery and tapes be damned.

It doesn't take him long to give the carcass--can you even call it that if it's mostly metal?--a once over and then crack some of the casing near the original injury off with a rock, avoiding the glowing fluid that oozes out onto the ground. Using his keys, a mini-tool kit and a variety of sharp sticks and rocks, Newt begins recording as he pulls back more and more of the creature carefully--don't wanna get any of the fluid on him, even though it seems non-toxic, he's not taking any chances--his excitement getting more and more pronounced as he gets deeper under the servos and circuits.

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The outskirts of this derelict planet offered the safest environment to study barring her own little ad hoc lab and apartment she annexed shortly after her unanticipated arrival. Making sense of this planet and it's rapidly, strangely, evolving flora and fauna that implied the planet itself was adapting specifically to cater to the needs of organic life was in her opinion their chiefest priority. Especially if they, specifically Miranda, wanted to ensure the survival of the small but growing number of humans dotting this city of giants she had yet to understand let alone trust.

Murmurings about new creatures sighted moving in herds outside the city brought her out here. Rations of the plant life wouldn't last forever and no one else had seemed to be bothered with their lackluster food and water situation, so Miranda came back out to the outskirts to investigate once she had found the means to reload her pistol and patch up the scraps and bruises the last time she had made it out here.

It wasn't long before one of those deer creatures crosses her path. Its conformation was alien and it moved stiffly but in a way that implied it had muscle and bone - or some synthetic equivalent, under that almost pixelated body. She watches the deer and its erratic movements as it seems to be running from something. It's then she sees someone - a human someone at that/ Crouched over the twitching carcass of a freshly dead space deer, lacking a better word.

"Hello?"

Old habits die hard and her hand it close to her weapon on the approach.

Newt is furiously talking to himself as he pulls back more of the protective casing on one of the cube joins, more of that curious liquid oozing out onto the rusted ground--which he's assuming has to be fuel or lubricant or a combination but without any equipment to speak of he's not going to be entirely sure what he's dealing with. His kingdom for a mass spectrometer or even a freaking microscope. He's positive the inhabitants of the planet would have files on what these things were, but considering he's not met any that seem especially bright, he's going to have to do this himself.

He doesn't notice the woman until she speaks, and even then it takes him by surprise. He jumps, falling backward onto his butt before he fumbles, fingers slightly glowing from the energon covering them, for the recorder to shut it off. There goes that tangent.

"Uh! Hi there!" he says, before straightening up a little because this probably looks really suspicious. Hella suspicious.

"I promise this isn't as weird as it looks."

"I highly doubt you can eat that."

Rampage can be remarkably quiet for a robotic crab the size of a house. He steps through the ruins behind the small creature - a human, was it? - prodding through the corpse of a nitro-deer, slowly moving to loom over it. He's certainly no Jaeger, but he is one of the largest robots currently on the planet, though much of his robot-mode height is converted to girth in beast-mode.

Bulbous, luminous green eyes watch Newt critically. Apparently these human creatures - of which there are several on the planet, strangely enough - are people, too, but he has difficulty believing it. They're dead against his spark. He tastes no more emotion from them than he does the rusting walls of this city. He's never known people he couldn't feel.

Newt can't help but yelp when the massive form suddenly appears and talks at him--almost jamming a tiny screwdriver into his hand in the process. He was so wrapped up in what he was doing that he didn't even hear the... Is that a giant crab?

This planet seriously needs to stop throwing him curve balls.

He puts his hands up as he's examined, trying to look unthreatening (which isn't hard, but he does have spots of energon all over him so it's a valid concern) and swallows thickly to try and come up with something to say.

"Uh, sorry. Did you want it? Cause you can have it. Like, I'd really like you to have it if it means you won't eat me."

Wow. That's the best you could do? What an idiot.

Well, it certainly speaks like a person. How strange, to watch someone you know must be feeling fear right now, whose fear can be heard in their voice, and yet it can't be tasted. He can't taste anything from this one. Lucky creature. He may have mostly turned away from rampant murder for the moment, but he has to admit that fear can be rather... intoxicating.

He makes a noncommittal grunt, gaze shifting to the dead nitro-deer, its spark extinguished. "It's dead and you might as well be. There's no point in eating either one of you."

Yes, at the moment the human is much more of a curiosity alive than dead.

Newt really doesn't like the way this giant grab is eyeballing him and it's pretty apparent that he's more than a little intimidated. He can't stop thinking about the destruction that Onibaba had thrown against Japan, and though the robot was smaller than the kaiju, the fear was still evident. But he was also fascinated. These beings were so complex in their anatomy and machinery, he really wants to take one apart and work out how they ticked. Probably not the best thing to be thinking about right now though.

He wets his lips, still holding his hands up as if it helps, watching the beast stare down at him uneasily. The hairs on the back of his neck have prickled up, and his stomach is somewhere between his legs. His voice is quavering into a higher octave when he speaks again.

"I 'might as well be'? What's that's supposed to mean?"

Reaching out with one massive claw, Rampage attempts to tap Newt in the center of the chest. He puts little force into it, but chances are it's still going to feel a bit like punch.

"No spark," he says. "You feel about as alive as the rusted rocks littering this ruin."

Honestly, even turbo-foxes and the nitrodeer have sparks. What business do aliens have being alive without them?

And it certainly does feel like a punch, Newt is reeling back before he has a chance, and ends up flat against the ground, staring up at the sky, trying to catch his breath. The claw knocks all the wind out of him, and he struggles to come back with a high pitched rebuttal until he's gulped down enough air.

"What the hell!" he manages at last, but it comes out sounding far less intimidating than he means it. "Who just goes around poking people in the chest, seriously!" Maybe don't shout at the giant crab monster, Newt. That's probably the better idea here.

"And I totally have spark! My brain literally wouldn't work if I didn't have electricity to help it send messages from neurones to my muscles. That's basic biology."

Rampage watches with curiosity as he accidentally knocks the little fellow over and listens to it wheeze for breath. Did that hurt? What fragile creatures these humans are!

He gives an amused snort when Newt yells at him, then rolls his eyes as he tries to claim a spark for his own.

"Not sparks," he says. "A spark. The life source. The animating force. The center of our being. You don't have one. If you did I would feel it."

Newt frowns as he sits up, rubbing at his chest irritably. He's at least got the wind back in his lungs, and well. The Cybertronian had offered up a nugget of information that was helpful.

"Do you mean like an ignition? To start an engine? I mean, I sort of have that, but. It's really different to this," he gestures down at the opened up pixel deer.

Rampage heaves a heavy sigh. "No, that's not it at all."

Perhaps he should just show the creature. It's not like his spark is at any risk. He briefly considers why he even cares enough to explain, but he honestly doesn't have anything better to do. He'd come here following the trail of the nitro-deer's pain, but now it's dead and he's lacking in entertainment.

Plus, he might as well show the flesh creature what it's missing.

So he transforms, body resettling from crab-shape to humanoid, and then he parts his chest plates, sickly green light spilling out of him.

"This is a spark." Albeit a rather twisted and mutated one.

Newt can't help but lean back a little in caution as the plating and metal starts to shift and move. He's only seen one transformation, and he knows they can do it, but it's always super fascinating when they do. It reminds him of plastic toys of jaegers they brought out that had vehicle modes for some reason, that were always super hard to get into the right positions.

He stares up at the green light pouring out of the chest of the now humanoid crab, his face lighting up in the glow with curiosity and fascination. He stands, to get a better look, mumbling to himself that would usually go straight into the dictaphone--if he had it on.

"Okay, you totally got me there. I don't have that."

"That is what I said," Rampage snaps. He stares down at his own spark, pulsing malignantly in his chest. Not for the first time, he's struck with the urge to reach in and quench it within his fist. He's seen normal sparks before. Held them in his hands, squeezed them until they burst, tasted them as they burned down his throat... His is not normal. It's an aberration, and just looking at it makes his innards twist with disgust.

His chest plates snap shut again, shutting out that sickly light. He wonders if the human can sense the wrongness of it, like he's certain any Cybertronian would. Perhaps not. Maybe it's only something someone with a spark of their own can tell.

"No spark," he says, "So you're as blank to me as that dead nitro-deer."

A multitude of questions spring into his head suddenly--what is a spark exactly? How is it made? Are the robots built or born? Does the spark act like a heart moving fuel around or like a battery since they are semi-biological?--none of which he feels like he can ask the giant crab-cybertronian. It's still unsettling him way too much.

"I'm not dead, just so you know," Newt says, frowning. "I mean, maybe when I got here I thought I might be, but I'm sorta just rolling with it now. Do all you guys feel like I'm dead or something?"

"No, you're clearly not dead," Rampage says, settling into a crouch. "You're simply... silent."

He braces and elbow on one knees and leans his head against it. "And I suspect all other Cybertronians are deaf. They don't taste the presence of sparks, feel the touch of emotion against their own."

He's never met another like himself, not even Transmutate, his closest kindred.

"I suppose I'm one-of-a-kind."

Newt watches the cybertronian cautiously, settling back down so that he's actually sitting instead of being perched on his knees--which were really starting to ache at this point--and stores the information the robot gives him away carefully.

"I'm totally not silent. My heart--my organs--they all make noise. Maybe not the static noise or electric noise of a spark, but noise all the same," he offers, tilting his head a little as the cybertronian continues.

"Is that not normal? Being able to hear sparks?"

Rampage waves one of his hands dismissively. "Not that sort of silence. Everyone makes noise. But you... I can't feel what you're feeling."

And it's a very strange sensation, not knowing for sure just what emotions are lurking behind faces. The silence from Newt's lack of spark is disconcerting, and yet also... very interesting. It makes him remarkably mysterious for such a small and awkward creature.

"It's not. Not in the way I mean."

"Oh, so by seeing their spark you sorta get an idea of emotions? I guess a little like ghost drifting, but for everyone. Isn't that annoying after a while?" He asks, before even considering the fact that the cybertronian might use it to murder other robots. He's. It one to judge, but, well. He's not really portraying non-murderous tendencies here.

"When did you find out you could do it? Or has it always been a thing?"

Rampage gives a noncommittal grunt, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. That's about how it works, he supposes, though he has no idea what 'ghost drifting' is.

"You ask an awful lot of questions for something so small," he says, sidestepping Newt's prying into his past. "And it can be maddening>"

Newt opens his mouth and then promptly shuts it again, realising that, yes, he is asking a lot of questions. And that's probably not a great thing to be doing when you are this small.

"Uh, sorry. I'm a scientist. It's sort of what I do? I'm just trying to figure out how you guys work."

Rampage bristles a little at that. It isn't a surprise that the little human is a scientist, but hearing it stated outright still makes his plating itch. He's had bad experiences with scientists. Particularly scientists who wanted to figure out how he worked.

Standing, he snaps, "Consider that it's none of your business."

Newt visibly flinches. Okay, so maybe he could've phrased that better. He puts his hands up shaking.

"No, no, not like that. I mean, just for science and stuff. I''m not about to go and cut anybody open or anything. I'm just really curious about how you function, and it's kinda driving me insane not knowing. You guys are so so fascinating and exciting!"

Just for science? The human says that like doing things for science is somehow innocent. Like science isn't used for all kinds of unsavory things, ~~some of which he enjoys, but~~ one of which was creating him.

"Then go mad," he growls softly. Since scientists certainly helped him along in that respect. "Or ask someone else."

He considers crushing the human, but it really does seem more effort than it's worth. Mostly he just wants to be far away from the creature at the moment. It brings up memories that he'd much rather not think of. So instead he simply turns to leave instead.

Newt opens his mouth to argue but thinks better of it, releasing a breath as the cybertronian takes his leave. He's learnt some things--he's definitely going to have to record notes into the dictaphone once the robot is out of earshot--but right now, he's got the feeling that he somehow narrowly avoided getting squished.

He really needs to stop being him around beings that can crush him without a second thought.

"That," Skipper interrupts, perched in her sneakers atop a nearby pile of rubble, "is super mega hecks of gross, dude."

Like, okay, she's pretty gross right now, the water in this place doesn't even compare to Barbie's industrial washer/dryer and she hasn't brushed her hair since she got here, but this is the first person her size she's run into in person and... wow, that's pretty gross.

She hops down and comes closer, looking fascinated and disgusted.

"What're you doing to that thing?"

(Newt is free to notice her plastic nature anytime, including immediately or never.)

Newt jumps, almost jamming the screwdriver he's holding into his hands when the voice suddenly hits him,mocking up and around for the source. He blinks are her curiously, before shutting off his dictaphone, hands looking more than a little gloopy as the energon oozes over the rusted floor.

"Uh, hey there," he starts, trying to figure out why something feels off about this girl. "It's science! I'm dissecting it to try and get a better understanding of how it works."

He frowns down at the deer and then looks up at her. God she looked young. "Call me Newt," he offers, holding a hand to her before realising how gross it is and wiping it on his shirt first. "What're you doing out here?"

Oh no, that poor shirt. This guy clearly needs some fashion help anyways (are those tattoos on him? Skipper's never seen real tattoos before, the kind that don't wash off), but even so, his shirt doesn't deserve that kind of ooey gooey fate.

"Oh. Are you, like, a scientist?" she asks, wincing at the grossosity but totally curious, and says, "I'm Skipper and I was looking for something to eat--" as she offers her hand to shake his now-slightly-cleaner one.

His shirt has seen far worse fates than this, don't you worry Skipper. "Yeah! I'm a doctor. But only my Mom calls me doctor."

He shakes her hand, frowning briefly at the feel of it, but passing it off as inhaling too much of the energon fumes and sits back on his heels.

"Well, you can't eat this," he laughs, gesturing at the deer. "But there was some of that weird fruit a few minutes thata way. It's not exactly the best thing to eat, though."

While the robotic wolf might comment on not expecting this sight, this entire scenario was new to him. Foreign planets, suddenly winding up here instead of earth...it moved a little too quickly for him. And he was getting used to that planet, too! Why and how he arrived to this one, he's not sure, but those thoughts are set aside as he finds Newton taking apart the animal and...doing something with it.

The human-sized machine can't help but approach and try to appease his own curiosity. "What are you doing to that creature?"

Newts so wrapped up in what he's doing, that he doesn't notice the human-sized robot approach until it talks. He jumps, looking up at it before heaving out a sigh.

"Geez, why you gotta sneak up on a guy like that?" He says, wiping his hand on the front of his shirt as he glances back down at the carcass. Ideally moving it to somewhere he could set up a lab senario would be better, but he's not exactly friends with the creatures who can move it.

"Huh? Oh, I'm dissecting it. Y'know. For science."

"Dissecting?" Koh reared back himself when the man jumped, having no intention of startling him and startling himself as a result. It's brief, at least, and his eyes dart down at the creature's corpse, its interior readily displayed for all who pass by.

"You are...learning about it?"

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i didn't kill bambis mom i only skinned her

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