Re: Dinner with a Werewolf
Posted: Sun May 03, 2015 8:02 pm
Once under the old telescope's dome, Archie led Crystal to the alcove where his own maintenance-related needs were usually tended to. A few tools had been left there from the local Masterson workshop and the modern-day Clanksmen Archie had hired to stay on call, and they showed signs of having been used by Archie for everyday tweaks and little fixes.
"I had a few old gears and cogs left lying around and an old passion project that had been entrusted to me by Naughton Armatures' founders, shortly after I was knighted. It started out as their endearing attempt at a proof-of-concept before risking themselves at tampering with sentient souls, but the initial resident left this plane after a bout of hunting ruptured his phylactery... It lies empty for the moment, but chances are I could adapt my maintenance cradle to control it remotely..."
Lifting an old plastic milk carton, Archie revealed a beagle-shaped automaton, its floppy ears suggested by two leather flaps secured to the side of the head. Like in Archie's case, some amount of lifelike details had been sacrificed to give way to more space for Victorian embellishments, borderline Art Nouveau crests stretching along the machine's flanks and blending in with similar pastoral details sculpted in the brass. By the looks of things, Holden had spent some of his free time trying to put the mechanical dog back into working order and had been trying to buff off the accumulated verdigris patches. A pot of brass polish stood on the workbench, its pungent chemical scent striking the werewolf's nose.
Smirking, Archie pointed. "It has little attachment points across its frame, much like my face. In fact, it was originally delivered to me dressed in an adorable little set of clothes, top hat included. They've obviously decayed since then; I'll have to speak to a tailor... The voice box is compatible with human speech after a few modifications, I've replaced some of the fixed joints with freely-rotating ones to allow for more anthropomorphized gestures and I recovered some of my old eyebrow spindles and gears for the purpose of giving it more emotional range."
He leaned on the counter. "I was thinking we could delay our acting like a couple by a day or two, at least long enough so I can finish refurbishing Archie Junior. Then I could use my maintenance cradle to connect to it without leaving this body. I'd then quite literally trot along, dressed to the nines, and claim that I love you so much that I've decided to abandon my human armature for this one. I would say that I prefer frolicking along with your wolf than skulking in the city's shadows with my blades drawn, and that they're all going to do quite well without my involvement.
If I'm not needed, then who honestly cares?" he said, chuckling. "Of course, you would have to play along for at least a day, maybe by coming up with convoluted reasons as to why a harmless mechanical beagle that can talk is more useful than a trained and equipped humanoid spy and assassin. We'd watch the youngsters panic for a few hours, pretending not to care, and would then put an end to this at the first sign of serious concern. I would then walk out of the observatory as if nothing had happened and watch as they would attempt to kill me out of sudden spite," he said, laughing.
"I had a few old gears and cogs left lying around and an old passion project that had been entrusted to me by Naughton Armatures' founders, shortly after I was knighted. It started out as their endearing attempt at a proof-of-concept before risking themselves at tampering with sentient souls, but the initial resident left this plane after a bout of hunting ruptured his phylactery... It lies empty for the moment, but chances are I could adapt my maintenance cradle to control it remotely..."
Lifting an old plastic milk carton, Archie revealed a beagle-shaped automaton, its floppy ears suggested by two leather flaps secured to the side of the head. Like in Archie's case, some amount of lifelike details had been sacrificed to give way to more space for Victorian embellishments, borderline Art Nouveau crests stretching along the machine's flanks and blending in with similar pastoral details sculpted in the brass. By the looks of things, Holden had spent some of his free time trying to put the mechanical dog back into working order and had been trying to buff off the accumulated verdigris patches. A pot of brass polish stood on the workbench, its pungent chemical scent striking the werewolf's nose.
Smirking, Archie pointed. "It has little attachment points across its frame, much like my face. In fact, it was originally delivered to me dressed in an adorable little set of clothes, top hat included. They've obviously decayed since then; I'll have to speak to a tailor... The voice box is compatible with human speech after a few modifications, I've replaced some of the fixed joints with freely-rotating ones to allow for more anthropomorphized gestures and I recovered some of my old eyebrow spindles and gears for the purpose of giving it more emotional range."
He leaned on the counter. "I was thinking we could delay our acting like a couple by a day or two, at least long enough so I can finish refurbishing Archie Junior. Then I could use my maintenance cradle to connect to it without leaving this body. I'd then quite literally trot along, dressed to the nines, and claim that I love you so much that I've decided to abandon my human armature for this one. I would say that I prefer frolicking along with your wolf than skulking in the city's shadows with my blades drawn, and that they're all going to do quite well without my involvement.
If I'm not needed, then who honestly cares?" he said, chuckling. "Of course, you would have to play along for at least a day, maybe by coming up with convoluted reasons as to why a harmless mechanical beagle that can talk is more useful than a trained and equipped humanoid spy and assassin. We'd watch the youngsters panic for a few hours, pretending not to care, and would then put an end to this at the first sign of serious concern. I would then walk out of the observatory as if nothing had happened and watch as they would attempt to kill me out of sudden spite," he said, laughing.