Post by Kurosaki on Jan 5, 2012 23:09:46 GMT -5
In a small building off the beaten track in Naso City, a hideout so to speak, a group had gathered to discuss their plans. The workings of their group wasn't one for peace as one could immediately gather from the secretive way in which they conducted their meeting. One of the members kept a watch, armed to the teeth, nearby and patrolled around the area while the others kept tight together. It was odd that they might find themselves needing to be so secretive even while already being holed away in their own place so far from prying eyes and ears that might actually pose a threat to them. His code name, since they all had one presently for their operations, was 'Cello'.
Seeming to conduct the group, one man, a thin and smart looking man with short black hair and large rimmed glasses, stood before a board with many elaborate diagrams and numbers drawn upon it. As he went on to explain the plan, he would repeatedly gesture dramatically with a pointer that he held in his hand. Though the "maestro" of this group, his code name was actually 'Base' for he held the group together with his steady rhythm.
He pointed at a gruff looking man with dark skin who grunted and pulled up his pair of goggles and gave a thumbs up. He had lots of black soot all over himself and had clearly been working with some mechanical parts of some sort. This man's name, or rather his code name, was 'Trumpet' and he looked like the reliable sort. He was very much so reliable and disciplined. He liked to take matters slowly mostly because he tended to work around explosive materials of the most devastating nature. He nodded toward the girl to his right.
'Flute' as she was known, was quick and able, light on her feet. She tended to be good at concealment as well as acting. On the spur of the moment she could pretend to be anyone and with an air of someone that was 100% undeniable in their story. Only once the evidence was gathered on the contrary could she be disproved and by then she had usually put quite a lot of distance between herself and her would be pursuers.
There were other members present as well though the four listed were the first to join and help build the organization. All of them were strong to the cause though some seemed a tad nervous. With their plans fully in place and the weight of what they were really about to do on them, it was certainly natural.
'Base' tapped the diagram of the controller and everyone sat still, attention on that diagram to the fullest. The 'controller' was actually a detonator. And time was counting down till when they planned to use this and ones just like it...
-----
Oblivious to most of the norms of society, a dark haired younger man stared at the food in front of him in wonderment. He wasn't sure what it "smelled" like or what it might taste like. One would ask why this were so. Did he have a stuffy nose that morning or was there an unfavorable breeze that kept the scent away from him?
Those would both be explanations that would prove to be wrong. For this sixteen year-old was actually not so much sixteen. He was actually 6 months old. Also, despite his outward appearance as a human, the gears that caused his hand to come up to his mouth in a gesture of puzzlement and to lean forward a bit were not natural nor was his very existence. His reason for not having tried the sweet taste of the cotton candy being spun in front of him was very obvious if one knew these facts; he had no tongue or sense of taste to use to perceive such a taste.
Cell didn't run on the same types of energy as humans though. His gears winding in his body, silent as a mouse on Christmas Eve, were the very ones that also powered his energy stores and kept him moving continuously. It was an ingenious way to power a robot and those that had worked so hard to make him would agree on that.
"Ye just gonna be starin' at this 'er candy all day, lad? Or be ye going to buy some?" said the gruff man running the stand. Cell seemed startled by the intrusion of the man's voice and besides that he sounded so rough. A seafaring man by the looks of him, it seemed very unusual that he would be selling so soft an item as cotton candy. Cell's eyes wandered up and caught a look at the sign that explained it all.
'Sea Candy. Soft as the ocean waves!,' declared the sign for all to see. A parrot was the trademark and wore an eye patch. The man owning the stall was actually dressed up as a pirate and was in theme for the purpose of better selling his candy to young boys that wanted to be pirates someday.
"Um, no, that's okay," Cell said with an air of bashfulness before he turned and left the line. The kids behind him darted up to get their cotton candy, their pockets jingling with coins that they had either begged from their parents or earned doing small jobs.
As for money, Cell had finally discovered its usefulness and had earned some for himself. It was best for him to have enough to buy things such as new clothing and shelter. Since he moved on his own and was by himself most of the time, he didn't need to put up a front of buying food or drinking anything but he liked to look at the food stuffs and sometimes became fascinated imaging what it was like to partake in something like that for a meal.
It was left up to his imagination though. Just as smell was. And since he had never experienced it, he didn't really have that great of an idea about it.
As for the city he was in one would expect with him being made of technology that he would take a greater fascination with all of the technology around him built upon the concept of steam. However, Cell seemed to pay this almost no mind. His own repairs he knew how to take care of but as for expanding on himself or the like, the thought never even crossed his artificial mind.
Still, the technology was something that anything could find some amount of interest in or at least some admiration. Nosa City was run on steam practically. It served as the energy for transportation, helped outside the city with agriculture, helped run the local industries and powered homes for families all over. There were even some smaller innovative marvels in steam. Someone had been clever enough to invent a steam powered robot. A small one, mind you, that went around dusting the streets and stopping, pumping out a bit of steam, before it ate the debris it had swept up and continued on its way puffing and poking along.
Cell, having stopped to observe this small robot found a fascination he hadn't even known he possessed and ran up to the little robot. Red in color, the little thing also had black eyes atop a square head that turned this way and that. It would beep and boop every once in a while and continue on.
Kneeling down, Cell waved to the robot and smiled.
"Hey there! Interesting programming. What model are you?" he questioned with a tilt of his head but the robot continued on, paying him no heed. "I'm Cell but my full model name is C377 U74R."
Still the robot said nothing but a few beeps in reply and those didn't seem to be directly in response to what Cell had said to it.
Realizing it wasn't programmed with any communication software, which made up the majority of what Cell was, the humanistic robot stood back up and the little robot bumped into his shoe. It stopped, beeping more frantically with flashing lights in its eyes until Cell stepped to the side. Afterward it continued about its business as though it were content again.
Shrugging his shoulders in a motion he had recently learned, the larger robot started to walk back to the inn he had found a room in for the night. He was a mere ten feet away from the spot he had been at before when there was a loud explosion from nearby. It rocked the world around everyone and the large blast sent people flying forward and onto the ground that were nearby it. A building behind Cell had actually exploded into fire. Bricks had been sent tumbling on top of each other and had collapsed half the place.
Cell, having hit the floor and kept his head shielded with his arms, took a moment to stir again. His audio sensors were confused and it took him a moment to set them back to capture noise from around him. The visual screen that he saw the world in blinked in and out and finally flashed back to proper brilliance though static went across it a few times.
He was hardly moved from the spot when he saw in front of him the little red robot. Or at least the remains of it. The poor things head had come down first, smacking into the unforgiving cement and crushing it inward. Steam puffed from the wrong cracks in its frame and the little wheels that made it move now spun hopelessly as though trying to find traction in the air. It beeped a finally beep toward Cell and went silent and still, the wheels stopping abruptly.
"..." Cell looked visibly shocked and appalled before he stood up, scooped up the remains of the robot and made sure that there was nothing he could do to help. Turning around he saw the ruins that made up the building the robot had been cleaning in front of.
"W-what the! Did something go wrong with the steam engines?"
"Someone call for help to put out the fire!"
"Was there anyone at work today!?"
"Thank god! Today was a holiday..."
People rushed to and fro, some fetching others that knew how to deal with the fire who began to set up to douse it and others checking on those that had been near the blast radius. A few were rushed to Doctors but with only some small broken bones and, in better cases, just some scratches and bruises.
As for Cell, he was mostly fine. His sensors were all back to 100% operation, he observed, and the only thing that seemed wrong was that he had torn some holes in his pants from the fall. He examined one on his knee and found that it wasn't just a tear in the fabric but some of the plastic skin that covered his frame had been torn off. Luckily unless one looked directly at his knee through the hole in the fabric, no one would notice.
Not knowing what to do, Cell stood and watched the people working at first but then noticed someone nearby that had fallen.
"Hey, you alright? Need a help up?" he asked, kneeling at first to see the person better and then offering his hand to the person.
Seeming to conduct the group, one man, a thin and smart looking man with short black hair and large rimmed glasses, stood before a board with many elaborate diagrams and numbers drawn upon it. As he went on to explain the plan, he would repeatedly gesture dramatically with a pointer that he held in his hand. Though the "maestro" of this group, his code name was actually 'Base' for he held the group together with his steady rhythm.
He pointed at a gruff looking man with dark skin who grunted and pulled up his pair of goggles and gave a thumbs up. He had lots of black soot all over himself and had clearly been working with some mechanical parts of some sort. This man's name, or rather his code name, was 'Trumpet' and he looked like the reliable sort. He was very much so reliable and disciplined. He liked to take matters slowly mostly because he tended to work around explosive materials of the most devastating nature. He nodded toward the girl to his right.
'Flute' as she was known, was quick and able, light on her feet. She tended to be good at concealment as well as acting. On the spur of the moment she could pretend to be anyone and with an air of someone that was 100% undeniable in their story. Only once the evidence was gathered on the contrary could she be disproved and by then she had usually put quite a lot of distance between herself and her would be pursuers.
There were other members present as well though the four listed were the first to join and help build the organization. All of them were strong to the cause though some seemed a tad nervous. With their plans fully in place and the weight of what they were really about to do on them, it was certainly natural.
'Base' tapped the diagram of the controller and everyone sat still, attention on that diagram to the fullest. The 'controller' was actually a detonator. And time was counting down till when they planned to use this and ones just like it...
-----
Oblivious to most of the norms of society, a dark haired younger man stared at the food in front of him in wonderment. He wasn't sure what it "smelled" like or what it might taste like. One would ask why this were so. Did he have a stuffy nose that morning or was there an unfavorable breeze that kept the scent away from him?
Those would both be explanations that would prove to be wrong. For this sixteen year-old was actually not so much sixteen. He was actually 6 months old. Also, despite his outward appearance as a human, the gears that caused his hand to come up to his mouth in a gesture of puzzlement and to lean forward a bit were not natural nor was his very existence. His reason for not having tried the sweet taste of the cotton candy being spun in front of him was very obvious if one knew these facts; he had no tongue or sense of taste to use to perceive such a taste.
Cell didn't run on the same types of energy as humans though. His gears winding in his body, silent as a mouse on Christmas Eve, were the very ones that also powered his energy stores and kept him moving continuously. It was an ingenious way to power a robot and those that had worked so hard to make him would agree on that.
"Ye just gonna be starin' at this 'er candy all day, lad? Or be ye going to buy some?" said the gruff man running the stand. Cell seemed startled by the intrusion of the man's voice and besides that he sounded so rough. A seafaring man by the looks of him, it seemed very unusual that he would be selling so soft an item as cotton candy. Cell's eyes wandered up and caught a look at the sign that explained it all.
'Sea Candy. Soft as the ocean waves!,' declared the sign for all to see. A parrot was the trademark and wore an eye patch. The man owning the stall was actually dressed up as a pirate and was in theme for the purpose of better selling his candy to young boys that wanted to be pirates someday.
"Um, no, that's okay," Cell said with an air of bashfulness before he turned and left the line. The kids behind him darted up to get their cotton candy, their pockets jingling with coins that they had either begged from their parents or earned doing small jobs.
As for money, Cell had finally discovered its usefulness and had earned some for himself. It was best for him to have enough to buy things such as new clothing and shelter. Since he moved on his own and was by himself most of the time, he didn't need to put up a front of buying food or drinking anything but he liked to look at the food stuffs and sometimes became fascinated imaging what it was like to partake in something like that for a meal.
It was left up to his imagination though. Just as smell was. And since he had never experienced it, he didn't really have that great of an idea about it.
As for the city he was in one would expect with him being made of technology that he would take a greater fascination with all of the technology around him built upon the concept of steam. However, Cell seemed to pay this almost no mind. His own repairs he knew how to take care of but as for expanding on himself or the like, the thought never even crossed his artificial mind.
Still, the technology was something that anything could find some amount of interest in or at least some admiration. Nosa City was run on steam practically. It served as the energy for transportation, helped outside the city with agriculture, helped run the local industries and powered homes for families all over. There were even some smaller innovative marvels in steam. Someone had been clever enough to invent a steam powered robot. A small one, mind you, that went around dusting the streets and stopping, pumping out a bit of steam, before it ate the debris it had swept up and continued on its way puffing and poking along.
Cell, having stopped to observe this small robot found a fascination he hadn't even known he possessed and ran up to the little robot. Red in color, the little thing also had black eyes atop a square head that turned this way and that. It would beep and boop every once in a while and continue on.
Kneeling down, Cell waved to the robot and smiled.
"Hey there! Interesting programming. What model are you?" he questioned with a tilt of his head but the robot continued on, paying him no heed. "I'm Cell but my full model name is C377 U74R."
Still the robot said nothing but a few beeps in reply and those didn't seem to be directly in response to what Cell had said to it.
Realizing it wasn't programmed with any communication software, which made up the majority of what Cell was, the humanistic robot stood back up and the little robot bumped into his shoe. It stopped, beeping more frantically with flashing lights in its eyes until Cell stepped to the side. Afterward it continued about its business as though it were content again.
Shrugging his shoulders in a motion he had recently learned, the larger robot started to walk back to the inn he had found a room in for the night. He was a mere ten feet away from the spot he had been at before when there was a loud explosion from nearby. It rocked the world around everyone and the large blast sent people flying forward and onto the ground that were nearby it. A building behind Cell had actually exploded into fire. Bricks had been sent tumbling on top of each other and had collapsed half the place.
Cell, having hit the floor and kept his head shielded with his arms, took a moment to stir again. His audio sensors were confused and it took him a moment to set them back to capture noise from around him. The visual screen that he saw the world in blinked in and out and finally flashed back to proper brilliance though static went across it a few times.
He was hardly moved from the spot when he saw in front of him the little red robot. Or at least the remains of it. The poor things head had come down first, smacking into the unforgiving cement and crushing it inward. Steam puffed from the wrong cracks in its frame and the little wheels that made it move now spun hopelessly as though trying to find traction in the air. It beeped a finally beep toward Cell and went silent and still, the wheels stopping abruptly.
"..." Cell looked visibly shocked and appalled before he stood up, scooped up the remains of the robot and made sure that there was nothing he could do to help. Turning around he saw the ruins that made up the building the robot had been cleaning in front of.
"W-what the! Did something go wrong with the steam engines?"
"Someone call for help to put out the fire!"
"Was there anyone at work today!?"
"Thank god! Today was a holiday..."
People rushed to and fro, some fetching others that knew how to deal with the fire who began to set up to douse it and others checking on those that had been near the blast radius. A few were rushed to Doctors but with only some small broken bones and, in better cases, just some scratches and bruises.
As for Cell, he was mostly fine. His sensors were all back to 100% operation, he observed, and the only thing that seemed wrong was that he had torn some holes in his pants from the fall. He examined one on his knee and found that it wasn't just a tear in the fabric but some of the plastic skin that covered his frame had been torn off. Luckily unless one looked directly at his knee through the hole in the fabric, no one would notice.
Not knowing what to do, Cell stood and watched the people working at first but then noticed someone nearby that had fallen.
"Hey, you alright? Need a help up?" he asked, kneeling at first to see the person better and then offering his hand to the person.