September 2nd, 2025
George Murray Gammell had a face no mother could have loved. All he had was a mouth - a wide, elongated appendage filled with countless jagged teeth that left almost no room for the top of his throat. He looked like a diseased take on a sock puppet, in essence, but someone had judged it prudent to make the horror stop below his neckline. From further down, he was almost disappointingly normal. Nobody would see any of this, however. Nobody except the one person in the spaceport terminal's entrance that had the power to see through his Veil.
To everyone else, he was a blur. Something or someone inconsequential, immediately dismissed, seemingly never there. Still, perhaps for the sake of fooling the occasionally sharper minds they might run into, he'd shucked a fedora and a pair of round little glasses on, their expanse jet-black against his almost chalk-white skin. If he had been seen, chances were he would've been misconstrued for some sort of visiting demon or some other nefarious phantasm. Nobody ever lived to see Abominations, and those that did were typically never heard from again. The Promethean Order shied away from all forms of attention, operating in the shadows of other, better-qualified groups. The White Brotherhood, the small mercenary companies arms of the Rothchild lineage had founded over the years...
The Toymaker, however, had never shied away from helping his best and dearest of allies.
"Forty years," he said, arms behind his back, as he ambled closer to the woman. "Forty years without a word. Not one peep - not even a whisper."
He rocked on the soles of his feet for a second or two. "Anyone else would have taken umbrage."
Then, smiling, and with the kind of slowness reserved for lifelong friends, he embraced her, squeezing her tight for just an instant.
"Welcome back, Meris."
* * *
October 3rd, 2025
The crate was big, measuring about six feet by three, for about four in depth. Instead of a forklift, it was lifted and carried inside the Hall's observatory by a pair of Karthians wearing the blue polos and khakis of Alkaev Robotics' delivery service. One of the larger sides came with a printed silhouette of what waited inside - a rather stark-looking frame; delicate if deceptively strong titanium leg hydraulics holding up a dramatically widening torso. The end result was one of caricatured masculinity, but also of restraint - at least judging by the demo snapshots that lined the sides. The armature's base concept had started as a mid-range option for people who had as much heavy-duty work to accomplish as they did administrative tasks, but the special order had required a larger Tesla core and a number of uncommon attachment ports and modular components.
Behind them, a third Karthian followed, occasionally commenting on the two load-bearing gentlemen's work. Anastasius Romanov looked like he had a hard time suppressing his giddiness, but he made the best effort possible. Ahead of them, and already clad in the sort of felt overcoat you would've expected for November or December, Archie led the group to the spot where Maurice Bagley's integration station had been set up. He'd recharge on a nightly basis using the induction port that had been aesthetically hidden in his mattress, back in his bedroom, but the core to the genius loci's seat of consciousness had needed to be upgraded for the transfer. A large Oriental divider had been temporarily placed nearby, and a few oversized clothing items already hung from it - far too big for Archie to wear and yet too small for Bucky. Right next to the integration apparatus, a simple stool waited that supported nothing except one very large towel.
Even Clanks had concerns about their modesty, after all.
Archie checked his fob watch for the -nth time, producing a nervous sound as he snapped it shut. "Who in Heaven's name decided that Maurice would be reintegrated on the day of Sarah's return from Iraq? I understand she'd been begging for that internship for years, even prior to our meeting her, but - what wretched timing, honestly! Aidan isn't likely to have returned from the spaceport, Aislinn and Gubbin haven't finished their workday at the tattoo parlor, Neasa is out bloody shopping... Whoever invented weekends should be shot on sight, I say! If this goes on, we won't have any champagne in time for his awakening!"
He started pacing nervously, hands behind his back. "Is this what expectant fathers go through, Crystal? Not that Bagley's my son, but - oh, sod it. Great Gadfrey; I think I'm about to have an attack of some sort, my lack of organs be damned..."
Chapter II: Gravity
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IamLEAM1983
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter II: Gravity
"Relax, Archie! The others will get to meet Bagley in due time; don't worry about that. I know this is an important time, but is Bagley the type of person to have a big to-do made over him?" she asked. "Save the champagne for later and be in the moment. Panic isn't how you want him to see you, right?"
The werewolf wore a gray turtleneck shirt and black jeans, along with black sneakers. A long beaded necklace hung down the front of her shirt, bits of tiger's-eye and aventurine glinting in the light of the room. Crystal was happy to see the return of the man turned genius loci, but she was particularly glad to see her gentleman friend have his old comrade back in working order.
***
About a month later, Meris quietly sipped some tea made by the Abomination, faint slurping coming from her lips. "I'm relieved things are quiet for now. Any contacts Nereus and the Chamberlain have are biding their time until the next opportunity opens," she mused, then scoffing. "I'm leery of sightseeing; I don't want to draw too much attention to myself."
The werewolf wore a gray turtleneck shirt and black jeans, along with black sneakers. A long beaded necklace hung down the front of her shirt, bits of tiger's-eye and aventurine glinting in the light of the room. Crystal was happy to see the return of the man turned genius loci, but she was particularly glad to see her gentleman friend have his old comrade back in working order.
***
About a month later, Meris quietly sipped some tea made by the Abomination, faint slurping coming from her lips. "I'm relieved things are quiet for now. Any contacts Nereus and the Chamberlain have are biding their time until the next opportunity opens," she mused, then scoffing. "I'm leery of sightseeing; I don't want to draw too much attention to myself."
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter II: Gravity
George's workshop was directly atop Gammell's Toybox, a two-storey building standing just a few meters away from Pickman's Sound only major commercial strip. He occupied the mezzanine, which to the untrained eye wasn't much more than musty storage space nobody ever used. He only had one window, a wide, tall and low arch that allowed for plenty of natural light to enter the studio-like space. The half closest to the window served as George's apartment, all in artfully stripped brick walls and lined with several portraits and bookcases. A now-useless wood stove now served as an ornate coffee table next to the seat Meris had taken. As he had the same space to occupy as a single floor of the store below, even a single half created enough space for a comfy reading room, a small, if functional dining room and a fully-featured kitchen. He only had four doors to call his own: one led to a quaint little Victorian bathroom, the other to an old-fashioned, if suitably masculine bedroom, and another allowed his and Meris' personal spaces to communicate, if need be. As Meris lived on the top floor of the adjacent apartment complex, opening that door allowed both of their living rooms to merge into one. Next to that door was what looked like a light switch, but essentially acted as one of the Toymaker's thoughtful little diversions. Flick it off, and what was a communicating doorway turned into a seemingly ordinary closet. Meris could do the same on her end of things, saving face in the advent of meddlesome visitors.
The other half was elevated by two steps, turning into a kind of stage. A neatly organized clutter occupied four workbenches, the ceiling holding up a series of chains and pulleys, in case George ever needed to work on something hefty. On either side of the stage, bigger wooden workbenches waited, suggesting this was where assembly typically occurred. You couldn't have guessed at the exact nature of his work, judging by the amount of tools he had on hand and their sheer variety.
A computer waited on one of the workbenches, filled with blueprints he'd worked on using standard drafting software. A voltmeter wasn't too far from it, along with three different soldering stations. There were basins waiting for steel to quench, or a toaster oven-like industrial forge inset in the far wall. Drills, saws and various cutting or carving implements could be guessed at, along with a rainbow's worth of paints and brushes of all manner of shape and size. Little drawers stood next to magnifying glasses and a mechanic's rolling cabinet, containing all the screws, cogs, gears and pinions he'd ever need. A corkboard waited on the wall above, holding a constantly updated quota of the number of items he had to keep a steady inventory of. He had everything he needed to manufacture more, for as long as he'd be able to keep purchasing steel, iron, copper or wood. The kind of tabletop organizer you'd have kept around to organize screws and bolts in your garage was instead used to organize his supply of gemstones.
If anything, the most important item was what waited on the central table. It was a set of leather-bound notebooks, containing the next best thing to a definitive set of "White Books" - Gammell's theorized understanding of the Architect's own laws and physics. Everything he could do, he owed to his rare and occasional prophetic fever spells as well as his own careful progress in the art of being an adequate sword-arm for the Old God. He wrote and drew all of it in those books, which would have looked like a highly organized madman's scrawls to anyone but him and Meris.
For now, however, the workshop half remained unused. George had cleaned up, metaphorically closed all of his workstations, and allowed himself a few days to spend a few days with the apartment building's sometimes bewildered or needy residents. For now, on a Saturday afternoon, he'd elected to kick back with his only serious friend. His frail form felt winter's incoming embrace somewhat harsher than the selkie, and he'd traded his jacket for the robe he used as both a smoking jacket and a bedrobe. As fragile as his health was, he'd never taken to smoking pipes and had instead fallen in for tea in general. Anything that gave his capricious kidneys a good run while giving him a jolt of warmth and a tiny bit of a caffeine rush couldn't be that bad, right?
"Oh, please," he replied, on a lightly scolding tone that evoked more fondness than disagreement, "I daresay you've earned a few walks about town, Meris. You're an Archmage, last I checked, and Mister Chambers has not made his intentions regarding Hope particularly clear," he said, mocking the Chamberlain's chosen modern human alias. "I've a few spies in place with Renewal's La Jolla headquarters, in California, and most of them report a chosen focus along the West coast. If anything, I suggested you return here for the sake of keeping abreast of an old friend's activities..."
He smiled. "Harrison Arkham, latest of the all-masculine Arkham bloodline, with which we are both fairly well acquainted. I've a few copies of deeds you could take a gander at, if you ever find yourself needing some light reading... It seems as though he planned ahead of Gawain Machae's predictable failure and kept a leash on those lots he'd purchased in order to anchor the arcane bomb."
The Toymaker then shrugged. "As far as Faerie goes, everything suggests the collaborators are not of local stock. The Squids would have to gang up on Sir Percival of Evergloam, the local Viscount, to even hope to make a dent in his psyche. The old Gruff's saving grace is his mantle; it locks him in conceptions of honor and duty most of us have not seen since the Bard put pen to paper."
* * *
"Oh, he's quite used to seeing me like this," testily replied the Clank. "A good batman keeps his composure in the advent of his employer losing his own. I fly off the handle, he perches me back onto said handle, and I pay him at the end of the month. Fair and square.
- What are you afraid of, Archibald?" asked Anastasius. "I have known Bagley before, and he is quite the dependable fellow.
- I know, but..."
Archie gestured aimlessly, suggesting he had no idea how to verbalize what he felt. "It's huge, as the young ones would say," he finally blurted. "Not just for myself, but for him, as well! Who knows how well he shall really take to this shell? I've heard horror stories concerning better men than myself who wished for nothing but the colloquial metal grinder, once they awoke to their new selves! You have no idea, Anastasius, how portentous this step is for all those who choose to travel this road!"
The Karthian's smile turned more reserved. "Hrmph. I sometimes think you would be better off with a Karthian on your team. Someone to banish your worry-wart tendencies...
- Oh, don't you dare," replied Holden, who lifted a finger at Romanov. "If you put me in a Dominion, you had better make sure I never find out at a later date!"
If anything, Holden's outburst seemed to amuse the Karthian. "You need a nap, old friend," he stated wryly.
The other half was elevated by two steps, turning into a kind of stage. A neatly organized clutter occupied four workbenches, the ceiling holding up a series of chains and pulleys, in case George ever needed to work on something hefty. On either side of the stage, bigger wooden workbenches waited, suggesting this was where assembly typically occurred. You couldn't have guessed at the exact nature of his work, judging by the amount of tools he had on hand and their sheer variety.
A computer waited on one of the workbenches, filled with blueprints he'd worked on using standard drafting software. A voltmeter wasn't too far from it, along with three different soldering stations. There were basins waiting for steel to quench, or a toaster oven-like industrial forge inset in the far wall. Drills, saws and various cutting or carving implements could be guessed at, along with a rainbow's worth of paints and brushes of all manner of shape and size. Little drawers stood next to magnifying glasses and a mechanic's rolling cabinet, containing all the screws, cogs, gears and pinions he'd ever need. A corkboard waited on the wall above, holding a constantly updated quota of the number of items he had to keep a steady inventory of. He had everything he needed to manufacture more, for as long as he'd be able to keep purchasing steel, iron, copper or wood. The kind of tabletop organizer you'd have kept around to organize screws and bolts in your garage was instead used to organize his supply of gemstones.
If anything, the most important item was what waited on the central table. It was a set of leather-bound notebooks, containing the next best thing to a definitive set of "White Books" - Gammell's theorized understanding of the Architect's own laws and physics. Everything he could do, he owed to his rare and occasional prophetic fever spells as well as his own careful progress in the art of being an adequate sword-arm for the Old God. He wrote and drew all of it in those books, which would have looked like a highly organized madman's scrawls to anyone but him and Meris.
For now, however, the workshop half remained unused. George had cleaned up, metaphorically closed all of his workstations, and allowed himself a few days to spend a few days with the apartment building's sometimes bewildered or needy residents. For now, on a Saturday afternoon, he'd elected to kick back with his only serious friend. His frail form felt winter's incoming embrace somewhat harsher than the selkie, and he'd traded his jacket for the robe he used as both a smoking jacket and a bedrobe. As fragile as his health was, he'd never taken to smoking pipes and had instead fallen in for tea in general. Anything that gave his capricious kidneys a good run while giving him a jolt of warmth and a tiny bit of a caffeine rush couldn't be that bad, right?
"Oh, please," he replied, on a lightly scolding tone that evoked more fondness than disagreement, "I daresay you've earned a few walks about town, Meris. You're an Archmage, last I checked, and Mister Chambers has not made his intentions regarding Hope particularly clear," he said, mocking the Chamberlain's chosen modern human alias. "I've a few spies in place with Renewal's La Jolla headquarters, in California, and most of them report a chosen focus along the West coast. If anything, I suggested you return here for the sake of keeping abreast of an old friend's activities..."
He smiled. "Harrison Arkham, latest of the all-masculine Arkham bloodline, with which we are both fairly well acquainted. I've a few copies of deeds you could take a gander at, if you ever find yourself needing some light reading... It seems as though he planned ahead of Gawain Machae's predictable failure and kept a leash on those lots he'd purchased in order to anchor the arcane bomb."
The Toymaker then shrugged. "As far as Faerie goes, everything suggests the collaborators are not of local stock. The Squids would have to gang up on Sir Percival of Evergloam, the local Viscount, to even hope to make a dent in his psyche. The old Gruff's saving grace is his mantle; it locks him in conceptions of honor and duty most of us have not seen since the Bard put pen to paper."
* * *
"Oh, he's quite used to seeing me like this," testily replied the Clank. "A good batman keeps his composure in the advent of his employer losing his own. I fly off the handle, he perches me back onto said handle, and I pay him at the end of the month. Fair and square.
- What are you afraid of, Archibald?" asked Anastasius. "I have known Bagley before, and he is quite the dependable fellow.
- I know, but..."
Archie gestured aimlessly, suggesting he had no idea how to verbalize what he felt. "It's huge, as the young ones would say," he finally blurted. "Not just for myself, but for him, as well! Who knows how well he shall really take to this shell? I've heard horror stories concerning better men than myself who wished for nothing but the colloquial metal grinder, once they awoke to their new selves! You have no idea, Anastasius, how portentous this step is for all those who choose to travel this road!"
The Karthian's smile turned more reserved. "Hrmph. I sometimes think you would be better off with a Karthian on your team. Someone to banish your worry-wart tendencies...
- Oh, don't you dare," replied Holden, who lifted a finger at Romanov. "If you put me in a Dominion, you had better make sure I never find out at a later date!"
If anything, Holden's outburst seemed to amuse the Karthian. "You need a nap, old friend," he stated wryly.
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter II: Gravity
"Well, beyond all the Fae collaborators being Mab loyalists, it will take a while to sort them out. Thankfully, the device you made really helped the Holden Hall youths. Given what I saw in the Darkhallow all those years ago, I know a couple of them by name, but the whole eventual meeting will be somewhat awkward. "Hello, I've known about your little group for a few centuries. Pleased to meet you"," Meris replied with a scoff.
***
Crystal sighed and stated, "Need I remind you that Bagley requested this transfer, Archie? Yes, there's a risk for any transhuman to go down that dark path, but it can be prevented. Remind him of the old days, both when he was flesh and blood and when he had a metal body. Offer him the old companionship you've always shared. Let him meet the kids and know them on a personal basis. Make sure he savors old pleasures. Let him live an actual life."
***
Crystal sighed and stated, "Need I remind you that Bagley requested this transfer, Archie? Yes, there's a risk for any transhuman to go down that dark path, but it can be prevented. Remind him of the old days, both when he was flesh and blood and when he had a metal body. Offer him the old companionship you've always shared. Let him meet the kids and know them on a personal basis. Make sure he savors old pleasures. Let him live an actual life."
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter II: Gravity
"Then simply elect not to mention that last fact," noted Gammell with a shrug. "If you really must let them know of what the Black Books showed you, then do it at a later date. Their importance in the grand scheme of things is something they can discover on their own."
* * *
Archie didn't have much to reply to this, and he settled with a vaguely anguished-looking pout. Crystal was right, but he hadn't heard of souls transferring after more than a century spent in a single space and state...
The TK-using deliverymen were soon ready to leave, and they stopped long enough to unfasten the safety straps on the armature's box. "Do you want us to hook it up for transfer," asked one of them, "or is there someone here who can handle this thing's weight?"
Immediately, Archie seized the opportunity to refocus on busywork. "Shall I get Shamus?" he asked, on a falsely cheery tone. "I'll just - go and get Shamus and be right ba-"
Anastasius smirked and placed a hand on Archie's shoulder. "Leave him be for now - he did tell us he preferred to work on his backlog, remember? More than fifty years of missed best-sellers... The old boy has barely discovered Stephen King! Give him some time, I'll handle the armature's weight."
The spy very briefly looked puzzled. After all, Anastasius looked more reedy than anything else; he wasn't exactly the most imposing of men... Then, with maybe just a smidgen of embarrassment, he remembered he was addressing a former Archon. Anastasius obviously could shoulder Bagley's weight with his mind alone.
The artist stepped aside long enough for Archie to sign for the delivery and for the two men to take off. Once that was dealt with, he returned to his two acquaintances. "Would you terribly mind if I asked you to step aside for a few moments? The least I can do is allow our friend to rest on his feet. This way, we will be able to inspect the merchandise, see if the local franchise did me proud..."
Archie signified his consent with a vague gesture. Nodding, Romanov took a step forward and extended a hand towards the crate, in the sort of imperious gesture people still associated to the likes of fictitious telekinetics like Magneto. He started by pulling the front panel forward, gesturing with his wrist to pull it aside and point it towards the floor. He then made it slide away on the observatory's floor, and refocused on what he'd exposed inside. For now, there wasn't much of anything to see except a multitude of biodegradable packing peanuts. His other hand came up and was also pushed forward, while the first one curled inwards in a sort of beckoning gesture. The end result was the fairly impressive sight of the peanuts acting as if a force field kept them in place, all the while being pushed aside by the emerging mass of the armature. Essentially freeing the armature in a way that would leave no mess or require any cleanup, he then forced the peanuts to stay in the box, even as he tipped it away by nudging a finger forwards. Finally, gesturing as if to shoo the useless material away, he sent the box sliding off into an unused corner of the observatory's main floor space.
Once that was done, however, he seemed to remember something. One hand carefully guided his telekinetic grasp over the armature as he rested it on its feet, while the other shot outwards after an instant of amassed focus. At that precise moment, something shot out of the packing peanuts like a scared bird and hurtled towards them with the sound of pages being ruffled by the wind. It landed in Romanov's right hand as if someone had expertly tossed it there.
"The manual," he explained, handing it to Crystal. "Maurice might want to study it, afterwards."
As for the Clank, it was, for all intents and purposes, as ordered by Amazo. Standing just over six feet tall with an impressive three at the shoulders and two at the waist, Bagley's new body had been delivered with its left shoulder guard attachment snapped into place - something which interestingly broke the body's symmetry. Something in its aesthetic design seemed to offer a callback to Archie and Bucky's antique appearances, while still making it rather obvious that this specific armature stood in the cutting edge of modern multi-use design. The outer plates were made out of ballistic and heat-resistant white ceramic coated with a thin thermoplastic layer. Inside that layer ran the minuscule honeycomb patterns of his body-wide haptic, barometric and pressure sensors. A single seam was visible along his abdomen, suggesting the presence of two panels that protected the maintenance access to his Tesla core. Along the torso's edges, delicate little ridges made out of copper-colored thermoplastic tubes gave Bagley's torso a subdued Art Nouveau look.
While Maurice's personality seemed intact, he'd been all but unable to recall the exact features of his own face. What could have been a dismaying turn of events turned out to be a vector for self-expression, the butler having elected to keep things simple. Unlike Archie, he did not present external ears and only had a vague nasal ridge to show; a small incline placed between both of his optic sensors. Like Archie, however, his face was broken into several individual flexible elements controlled by a group of servomotors that would put the spy's facial mobility to shame. A solid mesh of black rubber waited just behind it all, largely to protect his facial electronics from any would-be idiot with a knife or a screwdriver. It also kept things more aesthetic than in Archie's case, as no frown or gasp would ever expose the deeper mechanisms of his face. Of course, you had to squint to see Archie's in that little spot an eyebrow and one of his forehead plates didn't cover.
Bagley also hadn't felt forced to stick to the Gaslight Era's obsession with lifelike details. It almost felt as though someone from Apple had designed his face; giving him a stern jaw, round and simple optics, and more than enough facial control to compensate for any lack of individual details with a wealth of potential expressions. The armature came with a lockdown mode, however, which reset all of the plates to their factory-default positions and kept his eyelids closed and flush with the rim of his eye sockets, as a safety measure. They were designed to push in and part away once he'd awaken and to close again like they had if he ever needed to protect his eyes from tampering.
"I feel as though I just brought an elephant into a china shop, honestly," noted Holden. "Can we see if it works?
- Certainly!" agreed the alien. "I will engage Diagnostics Mode. The software does not require a soul to interface with it, at this stage. Alkaev ships its hardware properly charged and ready, so we can test its full range before Bagley integrates with it."
* * *
Archie didn't have much to reply to this, and he settled with a vaguely anguished-looking pout. Crystal was right, but he hadn't heard of souls transferring after more than a century spent in a single space and state...
The TK-using deliverymen were soon ready to leave, and they stopped long enough to unfasten the safety straps on the armature's box. "Do you want us to hook it up for transfer," asked one of them, "or is there someone here who can handle this thing's weight?"
Immediately, Archie seized the opportunity to refocus on busywork. "Shall I get Shamus?" he asked, on a falsely cheery tone. "I'll just - go and get Shamus and be right ba-"
Anastasius smirked and placed a hand on Archie's shoulder. "Leave him be for now - he did tell us he preferred to work on his backlog, remember? More than fifty years of missed best-sellers... The old boy has barely discovered Stephen King! Give him some time, I'll handle the armature's weight."
The spy very briefly looked puzzled. After all, Anastasius looked more reedy than anything else; he wasn't exactly the most imposing of men... Then, with maybe just a smidgen of embarrassment, he remembered he was addressing a former Archon. Anastasius obviously could shoulder Bagley's weight with his mind alone.
The artist stepped aside long enough for Archie to sign for the delivery and for the two men to take off. Once that was dealt with, he returned to his two acquaintances. "Would you terribly mind if I asked you to step aside for a few moments? The least I can do is allow our friend to rest on his feet. This way, we will be able to inspect the merchandise, see if the local franchise did me proud..."
Archie signified his consent with a vague gesture. Nodding, Romanov took a step forward and extended a hand towards the crate, in the sort of imperious gesture people still associated to the likes of fictitious telekinetics like Magneto. He started by pulling the front panel forward, gesturing with his wrist to pull it aside and point it towards the floor. He then made it slide away on the observatory's floor, and refocused on what he'd exposed inside. For now, there wasn't much of anything to see except a multitude of biodegradable packing peanuts. His other hand came up and was also pushed forward, while the first one curled inwards in a sort of beckoning gesture. The end result was the fairly impressive sight of the peanuts acting as if a force field kept them in place, all the while being pushed aside by the emerging mass of the armature. Essentially freeing the armature in a way that would leave no mess or require any cleanup, he then forced the peanuts to stay in the box, even as he tipped it away by nudging a finger forwards. Finally, gesturing as if to shoo the useless material away, he sent the box sliding off into an unused corner of the observatory's main floor space.
Once that was done, however, he seemed to remember something. One hand carefully guided his telekinetic grasp over the armature as he rested it on its feet, while the other shot outwards after an instant of amassed focus. At that precise moment, something shot out of the packing peanuts like a scared bird and hurtled towards them with the sound of pages being ruffled by the wind. It landed in Romanov's right hand as if someone had expertly tossed it there.
"The manual," he explained, handing it to Crystal. "Maurice might want to study it, afterwards."
As for the Clank, it was, for all intents and purposes, as ordered by Amazo. Standing just over six feet tall with an impressive three at the shoulders and two at the waist, Bagley's new body had been delivered with its left shoulder guard attachment snapped into place - something which interestingly broke the body's symmetry. Something in its aesthetic design seemed to offer a callback to Archie and Bucky's antique appearances, while still making it rather obvious that this specific armature stood in the cutting edge of modern multi-use design. The outer plates were made out of ballistic and heat-resistant white ceramic coated with a thin thermoplastic layer. Inside that layer ran the minuscule honeycomb patterns of his body-wide haptic, barometric and pressure sensors. A single seam was visible along his abdomen, suggesting the presence of two panels that protected the maintenance access to his Tesla core. Along the torso's edges, delicate little ridges made out of copper-colored thermoplastic tubes gave Bagley's torso a subdued Art Nouveau look.
While Maurice's personality seemed intact, he'd been all but unable to recall the exact features of his own face. What could have been a dismaying turn of events turned out to be a vector for self-expression, the butler having elected to keep things simple. Unlike Archie, he did not present external ears and only had a vague nasal ridge to show; a small incline placed between both of his optic sensors. Like Archie, however, his face was broken into several individual flexible elements controlled by a group of servomotors that would put the spy's facial mobility to shame. A solid mesh of black rubber waited just behind it all, largely to protect his facial electronics from any would-be idiot with a knife or a screwdriver. It also kept things more aesthetic than in Archie's case, as no frown or gasp would ever expose the deeper mechanisms of his face. Of course, you had to squint to see Archie's in that little spot an eyebrow and one of his forehead plates didn't cover.
Bagley also hadn't felt forced to stick to the Gaslight Era's obsession with lifelike details. It almost felt as though someone from Apple had designed his face; giving him a stern jaw, round and simple optics, and more than enough facial control to compensate for any lack of individual details with a wealth of potential expressions. The armature came with a lockdown mode, however, which reset all of the plates to their factory-default positions and kept his eyelids closed and flush with the rim of his eye sockets, as a safety measure. They were designed to push in and part away once he'd awaken and to close again like they had if he ever needed to protect his eyes from tampering.
"I feel as though I just brought an elephant into a china shop, honestly," noted Holden. "Can we see if it works?
- Certainly!" agreed the alien. "I will engage Diagnostics Mode. The software does not require a soul to interface with it, at this stage. Alkaev ships its hardware properly charged and ready, so we can test its full range before Bagley integrates with it."
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter II: Gravity
"So what have you observed about them, George?" Meris asked inquisitively, putting her cup down. "I'm aware the girl named Aislinn is in training to be a Scribe and does tattoos for a living. The boy named Aidan is a solider who had a rather messy trail after being accused for murders he obviously wasn't guilty of. That was the work of Void Weavers, certainly."
***
"Sounds like a good idea to me," Crystal noted.
***
"Sounds like a good idea to me," Crystal noted.
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter II: Gravity
Anastasius approached the armature and circled it once, appraising it and checking for any scratches or marks that could've been sustained during travel. He then stopped at one side, reaching for the back of the skull. Finding the rear seam, he opened the maintenance access port and soon was heard manipulating some sort of switch. The armature's mouth opened partway and its previously flush eyelids recessed and parted, exposing the optics. The Karthian then closed the back of the head. He returned next to Crystal and Archie.
"The Diagnostics Mode is designed to test the hardware's basic capabilities. It is voice-activated and covers all of the armature's systems: motion tracking, vocal synthesis, facial control surfaces, fine motor controls...
- Is it some sort of artificial consciousness?" asked Archie, who still had quite a bit to learn about AI. Romanov reassured him with a smile.
"No, my friend. There is no risk of Bagley's new body running off to do God knows what. Once Bagley assumes control, these programs should remain unused for the remainder of his life. Point in fact, there are designed to be deleted upon integration. Go ahead, give it a try."
Archie had never seen an armature that could do anything - anything at all - without a driving consciousness. As limited as this one currently was, he still approached it gingerly. "Er, hello," he began, unsure of how to proceed. "This is Archibald and, erm, I would like to know if you are entirely operational, please?"
There was a pause, followed by Bagley's future jaw working around the sort of words and voice that wouldn't fit the armature or the soul that would be driving it - a sanitized and nonspecific American accent processed through what had to be some kind of vocal synthesis program.
"Diagnostics Mode engaged. The Diagnostics Mode's subroutines cannot respond to complex queries. Please formulate simple requests based on the following options: facial control surfaces, motion tracking, sensory capabilities, gyroscope calibration, muscular calibration, Tesla core tuning.
For user experience settings, please state one of the following options: date and time, onboard GPS, wireless calibrations, UI language settings.
To change the Diagnostics Mode's language, please select one of the following options: Standard American English, Standard Canadian English, Français, Français Canadien Standard, Español, Italiano, Nederlands, Suomi, Russki, Nihongo.
To calibrate ethereal integration settings, please choose one of the following protocols: Naughton Revised, 2023 Edition, Alkaev Bridge, version 2.083, Goliath Transcendent, version date 6.11.2024. To update ethereal integration protocols, please refer to the wireless calibrations and connect the armature to a compatible WiFi network."
If anything, Archie looked back to Crystal as if he'd heard some sort of dark sorcery.
* * *
"They still are in the planning stages, if I may be honest," the Toymaker explained. "Their approach as a team is still being cemented into place, and every assignment still serves as a learning opportunity. They are dedicated, however, and quite professional. The city's recent spate of untrained gifted is being rather expertly handled. Far from an oppressive force, they have embraced outreach programs and begun acquainting a new generation of superhumans with their social responsibilities."
He nodded in approval. "In due time, they should make valuable allies at the most, and useful blind agents at the very least. Should we ever become concerned as to their ability to act to protect our charges, I could easily ensure that third parties provide them with ample justification to keep an eye on us."
George took a sip of his own. "Should things slip out of our control, I could easily arrange for a call to the constabulary to end in the problematic elements being isolated. If any one of their numbers become tainted by the Augur's agents, we stand ready to neutralize them. If need be, to terminate them, as well."
"The Diagnostics Mode is designed to test the hardware's basic capabilities. It is voice-activated and covers all of the armature's systems: motion tracking, vocal synthesis, facial control surfaces, fine motor controls...
- Is it some sort of artificial consciousness?" asked Archie, who still had quite a bit to learn about AI. Romanov reassured him with a smile.
"No, my friend. There is no risk of Bagley's new body running off to do God knows what. Once Bagley assumes control, these programs should remain unused for the remainder of his life. Point in fact, there are designed to be deleted upon integration. Go ahead, give it a try."
Archie had never seen an armature that could do anything - anything at all - without a driving consciousness. As limited as this one currently was, he still approached it gingerly. "Er, hello," he began, unsure of how to proceed. "This is Archibald and, erm, I would like to know if you are entirely operational, please?"
There was a pause, followed by Bagley's future jaw working around the sort of words and voice that wouldn't fit the armature or the soul that would be driving it - a sanitized and nonspecific American accent processed through what had to be some kind of vocal synthesis program.
"Diagnostics Mode engaged. The Diagnostics Mode's subroutines cannot respond to complex queries. Please formulate simple requests based on the following options: facial control surfaces, motion tracking, sensory capabilities, gyroscope calibration, muscular calibration, Tesla core tuning.
For user experience settings, please state one of the following options: date and time, onboard GPS, wireless calibrations, UI language settings.
To change the Diagnostics Mode's language, please select one of the following options: Standard American English, Standard Canadian English, Français, Français Canadien Standard, Español, Italiano, Nederlands, Suomi, Russki, Nihongo.
To calibrate ethereal integration settings, please choose one of the following protocols: Naughton Revised, 2023 Edition, Alkaev Bridge, version 2.083, Goliath Transcendent, version date 6.11.2024. To update ethereal integration protocols, please refer to the wireless calibrations and connect the armature to a compatible WiFi network."
If anything, Archie looked back to Crystal as if he'd heard some sort of dark sorcery.
* * *
"They still are in the planning stages, if I may be honest," the Toymaker explained. "Their approach as a team is still being cemented into place, and every assignment still serves as a learning opportunity. They are dedicated, however, and quite professional. The city's recent spate of untrained gifted is being rather expertly handled. Far from an oppressive force, they have embraced outreach programs and begun acquainting a new generation of superhumans with their social responsibilities."
He nodded in approval. "In due time, they should make valuable allies at the most, and useful blind agents at the very least. Should we ever become concerned as to their ability to act to protect our charges, I could easily ensure that third parties provide them with ample justification to keep an eye on us."
George took a sip of his own. "Should things slip out of our control, I could easily arrange for a call to the constabulary to end in the problematic elements being isolated. If any one of their numbers become tainted by the Augur's agents, we stand ready to neutralize them. If need be, to terminate them, as well."
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter II: Gravity
Crystal snickered. The deputy chief saw how Holden had no clue on how to proceed, and he was rather discombobulated over the whole matter. Having some experience with automaton tech from the HPD, she said, "Sensory capabilities, please."
***
"Hopefully not, but we have what we have to do," Meris responded, resigned to this fact in the work that they did. "I just wish there was a light at the end of the tunnel. I've been at this for over 400 years. It feels like things are starting to reach some sort of end, but that end is still nowhere in sight."
***
"Hopefully not, but we have what we have to do," Meris responded, resigned to this fact in the work that they did. "I just wish there was a light at the end of the tunnel. I've been at this for over 400 years. It feels like things are starting to reach some sort of end, but that end is still nowhere in sight."
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: Chapter II: Gravity
The armature's head moved, its motors and servos producing barely audible whirrs. Its eyelids were fully open, a suitably robot-like blank expression on its face. Behind the plexiglas cover, the optics' irises could be seen adjusting. Its mouth opened again, but it only produced a series of beeps.
"Binaural microphones active, sampling audio at nine hundred thousand megahertz. Visual resolution at 8K, TruColor palette selected. Haptic sensors at maximum sensitivity. Barometric sensitivity, active. Electromagnetic sensitivity, active. Checking atmospheric analysis and taste sensors."
The Clank's chest lightly heaved, while its mouth closed, the jaw slightly working as though it were sampling a bit of food. "Detecting particulates. Atmospheric analysis and taste sensors, active."
Anastasius smirked, a satisfied look on his face. "Run facial recognition diagnostics."
Bagley's head was vaguely bullet-shaped, rounded on top and largely cylindrical in its design. That left him with no visible neck, even if the "head" part seemed to be able to tilt up and down rather freely. "No ethereal construct present, unable to assess identities at present time. Three targets detected."
Opting to be sure, Anastasius tried to fool the Diagnostics AI by using his smartphone to bring up a picture of himself. He held it for the armature to see. "Scan again."
Another pause. "Four targets detected."
Archie seemed puzzled. "Why four? There are only three of us!
- It has no soul," explained the Karthian. "All the Diagnostics AI may do is ensure that the software will correctly interface with the soul's memories of what faces are. It takes a sapient being to tell a face apart from the picture of a face. The software can do no such thing on its own."
He then smirked and winked, approaching the armature. "See? No soul," he first said to his friends, after which he looked to the armature. "Gyroscope calibration."
The Clank looked down. "Acknowledged. Recording. Please disturb the unit's footing."
Using his powers, Anastasius sent a shaft of force from the rear of the unit's right leg to the front, pushing it forward and upwards. Immediately, the upper limbs began to windmill in an effort to avoid falling, the Clank hopping on its good leg for a second or two, before staggering back.
"Gyroscope is stable. Fall prevention set to Moderate. Increasing Fall Prevention setting is discouraged, if realism is a concern. High settings are better suited for high-risk environments, but reduce user control."
Archie was perplexed. "Bagley's center of gravity can be altered?
- Not consciously, no. It will always be low, as per the armature's construction. His resistance to falls can be improved, but the resulting settings are not comfortable for souls used to meticulous work. The base processor can take control of the armature's sense of balance during complex movements, but it feels like being locked inside your own mind, from what I am told."
* * *
Gammell smiled reassuringly. "You could not be expected to keep a uniform level of motivation through so serious an ordeal, Meris. There have been and will be more times in which the end seems to be intolerably far away - but there will be greater occasions for us to attain complete control over the events that concern us.
If my spies and your recountings of Nereus' troubled nature are correct, then he shall also sense his moment coming. If we play our cards right, giving him hope soon before or afterwards should tip the scales in our favor."
"Binaural microphones active, sampling audio at nine hundred thousand megahertz. Visual resolution at 8K, TruColor palette selected. Haptic sensors at maximum sensitivity. Barometric sensitivity, active. Electromagnetic sensitivity, active. Checking atmospheric analysis and taste sensors."
The Clank's chest lightly heaved, while its mouth closed, the jaw slightly working as though it were sampling a bit of food. "Detecting particulates. Atmospheric analysis and taste sensors, active."
Anastasius smirked, a satisfied look on his face. "Run facial recognition diagnostics."
Bagley's head was vaguely bullet-shaped, rounded on top and largely cylindrical in its design. That left him with no visible neck, even if the "head" part seemed to be able to tilt up and down rather freely. "No ethereal construct present, unable to assess identities at present time. Three targets detected."
Opting to be sure, Anastasius tried to fool the Diagnostics AI by using his smartphone to bring up a picture of himself. He held it for the armature to see. "Scan again."
Another pause. "Four targets detected."
Archie seemed puzzled. "Why four? There are only three of us!
- It has no soul," explained the Karthian. "All the Diagnostics AI may do is ensure that the software will correctly interface with the soul's memories of what faces are. It takes a sapient being to tell a face apart from the picture of a face. The software can do no such thing on its own."
He then smirked and winked, approaching the armature. "See? No soul," he first said to his friends, after which he looked to the armature. "Gyroscope calibration."
The Clank looked down. "Acknowledged. Recording. Please disturb the unit's footing."
Using his powers, Anastasius sent a shaft of force from the rear of the unit's right leg to the front, pushing it forward and upwards. Immediately, the upper limbs began to windmill in an effort to avoid falling, the Clank hopping on its good leg for a second or two, before staggering back.
"Gyroscope is stable. Fall prevention set to Moderate. Increasing Fall Prevention setting is discouraged, if realism is a concern. High settings are better suited for high-risk environments, but reduce user control."
Archie was perplexed. "Bagley's center of gravity can be altered?
- Not consciously, no. It will always be low, as per the armature's construction. His resistance to falls can be improved, but the resulting settings are not comfortable for souls used to meticulous work. The base processor can take control of the armature's sense of balance during complex movements, but it feels like being locked inside your own mind, from what I am told."
* * *
Gammell smiled reassuringly. "You could not be expected to keep a uniform level of motivation through so serious an ordeal, Meris. There have been and will be more times in which the end seems to be intolerably far away - but there will be greater occasions for us to attain complete control over the events that concern us.
If my spies and your recountings of Nereus' troubled nature are correct, then he shall also sense his moment coming. If we play our cards right, giving him hope soon before or afterwards should tip the scales in our favor."
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter II: Gravity
"It seems like everything is in working order," Crystal guessed, looking to the armature. She then asked Anastasius and Archibald, "Is there anything else we want to try out? Or would you rather just integrate Bagley's soul?"
***
"Yes, that will most definitely be needed. I've thought about sneaking into his home to talk to him, but getting past the Chamberlain and his security team will be difficult. I just need some private time with him to talk and reconnect with him," the archmage explained.
***
"Yes, that will most definitely be needed. I've thought about sneaking into his home to talk to him, but getting past the Chamberlain and his security team will be difficult. I just need some private time with him to talk and reconnect with him," the archmage explained.