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Post by whiplash on Jan 13, 2012 23:40:58 GMT -5
Whiplash kept his half-shuttered eyes on the screen. The sudden burst of music startled him a bit, as well, but he relaxed again, instantly, when Jessica’s fingers resumed their stroking. He cycled his vents in a long, contented sigh, and shifted against the ground a bit. He was radiating a fair amount of warmth--enough to keep Jessica comfortable without being too hot.
He didn’t comment on what was happening, not even when he began to lightly purr in earnest. The sound rose and fell, much like a cat’s purr, and did not drown out the sounds of the movie previews that were now filtering through his speakers. “So d’you know what this movie’s called, anyway?” He asked, sounding a little less dreamy, but still much calmer than he normally did.
He probably should have wondered why he was reacting like this, but he was much too busy relaxing.
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Post by Jessica Ross on Jan 14, 2012 0:52:43 GMT -5
Jessica found she wasn't getting cold, despite her suspicions that she would. She mentally shrugged them off, however, and focused on the soft purring that was starting up. She looked at it and smiled a little. "This is Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon, staring Basil Rathbone. Basil Rathbone was a great actor, from....the 1940s, mostly and usually played bad guys. He's the man who also changed the face of the literary, and fictional, detective, Sherlock Holmes. He was the one who brought about the deerstalker cap," she explained gently, though she couldn't help go into a bit of a history lesson.
She flushed a little. "I like Basil Rathbone's acting," she explained quietly before she fell silent.
She decided that if he asked anything else, she would answer his questions. And through it all, she gently pet his horns. She couldn't help it really.
And, while she would never tell him this, Whips was adorable while all relaxed and kitten like.
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Post by whiplash on Jan 14, 2012 1:24:16 GMT -5
Whiplash checked his internal chronometer to try and get an idea of how long ago the film had been made. It was nearly one hundred years old. That wasn’t much in the lifespan of a Cybertronian, but it was well before Jessica was born--likely even before her parents were. He made a mental note to look into this “Sherlock Holmes” later. He wasn’t worried about the deerstalker thing.
He just nodded, the movements of his head stunted so as not to dislodge her fingers. Whiplash rarely let anyone touch him. Usually, when he was engaged in physical contact at all, it was because he was scuffling with someone. This curious soothing sensation was utterly new to him.
Caught between relaxation at Jessica’s gentle touch and fascination with the screen down below, he soon settled into absolute silence. The theater played advertisements and shorts from the time period in which their movies were made, and once these were over, the film began proper. Whiplash was relaxed, but attentive, never moving. If Jessica stopped stroking his horns, he would nudge her, gently, but insistently, until she continued. The purr never stopped, not once, though she would only hear it peeking through quiet moments of the film’s soundtrack.
About halfway through, he finally piped up. “So, let me get this straight. This ain’t real? None of it is? All of that,” he nodded towards the screen, “is just… is fake?”
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Post by Jessica Ross on Jan 14, 2012 1:33:10 GMT -5
Jessica would pause on occasion, one time to get a bottle of water open. She found his behavior very cat-like, but decided from very early on that it would be a better plan to just not bring up the comparison between the pair of them and focused on getting her beef jerky bag open with her teeth, carefully. His question, however, surprised her. "Well, most of it, yes. But the backdrop, that is the time it took place in, is World War II, isn't. WWII was a horrible time. However, Sherlock Holmes, and the events in it, are probably not true, no. It's easier to say that the time is true, but the people are not," she explained softly, still petting his horns calmly.
"However, Sherlock Holmes was based upon a real-life detective. And he was so beloved by readers that when Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle killed him off, he eventually had to bring him back. Kind-of sad, since he has other works, but he'll always be known for Sherlock Holmes. Though...that means tonight is 'Mystery Night' or 'Suspense Night.' They might show The 39 Steps," she continued, softly.
Just enough to be heard, but not enough to cover the action on the screen. She then began to eat some beef jerky while, on occasion, drink some of the water.
No point in buying it if she wasn't going to use some of it.
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Post by whiplash on Jan 14, 2012 1:50:24 GMT -5
Whiplash nodded slowly. “I still don’t get it, though. Why they go through all the effort of makin’ a fake… thing.” He nodded at the screen. “Just seems like a waste of time to me. Not that you humans need any help wastin’ your time,” he added with a scoff. “So is it, like… like a teaching vid? Why would they have a lot of fake stuff mixed up with the real stuff?”
The young Decepticon shook his head again and stilled. “Doesn’t make any damn sense.”
Whiplash very simply didn’t understand the concept of entertainment. His curiosity had been piqued, though, and even though he wasn’t the most curious Decepticon, he would definitely be thinking about this sort of thing later. It pleased him to think he could educate himself on the subject, and be able to have a decent conversation with his pet about it.
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Post by Jessica Ross on Jan 14, 2012 10:32:17 GMT -5
Jessica resisted the urge to shake her head at him, still petting his horns. "It isn't for teaching, Whips, it is for entertainment, especially in a time when people, in a way, needed to forget they were in a middle of a war. So, for the next hour, give or take, the world outside didn't exist. It still did, but...people just didn't want their lives consumed by the war more then it already was. So, people made movies, to make people laugh, to entertain them, while also interjecting them with ads. Like the war bond ads you saw before the movie," she explained gently, still petting his horns.
She looked thoughtful before she relaxed. There was little that she could do to help explain entertainment. The fact was, some people just couldn't relax about entertainment. They had to analyze, had to find out. Jessica settled more and she continued to pet Whiplash's horns. "Music is for the same reason. People didn't create music to inform, but to express, and it became a type of entertainment. Same as books, for some of the time, and movies, for some of the time," she explained, trying not to interrupt the movie too much.
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Post by whiplash on Jan 15, 2012 0:23:12 GMT -5
Whiplash apparently didn’t mind interrupting the movie, because he raised his head slightly, just out of reach of her fingers. He gave it a bit of a shake to clear his mind. “But that’s stupid. War doesn’t go away if you just ignore it. Weren’t they fightin’ for their lives? When did they even have time to put all this together?” He narrowed his eyes at the screen angrily, as if he blamed it for what he perceived to be a failing of mankind. “You don’t end the war by trying to run from it. You end it by fightin'. Or.” He shrugged, the motion awkward and truncated in his current position. “You die. That’s the way it is.”
War was more or less all Whiplash had known. It wasn’t the same sort of war that had plagued Earth--this was a planet-wide war, a species-wide war There were no homelands, only battlefields. There were no safe places to hide except at the base of your own faction--unless you were a Decepticon. Then there were no safe places to hide. He simply didn’t understand that on Earth there had been places untouched by the horrors of combat.
He shook his head again. “I guess it worked for them, because humans are still around, but it’s still a dumb thing to do.”
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Post by Jessica Ross on Jan 15, 2012 4:42:53 GMT -5
Jessica sighed and she rolled her shoulders a bit. She focused on Whips and rubbed her eyes. She turned from the movie, she had the movie on DVD. She sighed and shook her head a tiny bit at Whips before she turned to him. She worked hard to keep the pity from her mind, because she couldn't imagine being so consumed by war that it was the only thing she could live, breathe, and think of war. That she didn't understand entertainment and, distantly, Jessica wondered if all Decepticons were this way or if it was just Whips.
If other Decepticons had likes and dislikes, hobbies even. If some, even if they wished to eradicate the Earth and all upon it, also enjoyed learning about the culture. She thought through this. "Humans don't live long Whips. And we have lived barely an eyeblink so far on this planet. Because of all of this...humans often don't want to be completely captured by the war surrounding them. Humans aren't logical, we don't often do what is best. And...in that time, the worst time in the history of the Earth, where everyone was uniting while at the same time turning on each other, involving a whole world and killing millions of innocent people, or humiliating them, taking their family heirlooms from them. In that time, people needed hope. They got it in this. Something that was for entertainment. We don't always do the smartest thing, but sometimes, we do the thing that is most needed. And people needed an escape within that dark time," she explained softly, though she did not reach for his horns again.
If he wanted her to continue petting his horns, he would bring his head back down. Or demand it of her. And his rage was back. She resisted the urge to shake her head at him. However, something about her seemed sad and she looked back at the screen. Sherlock Holmes was facing off against Moriarty and she gave a weak smile. "Sometimes...you just need to get away from the things that make your life a living hell," she stated.
It was obvious that she was no longer talking about a war long past or a war ripping a species apart now, but something else. Something that was ancient and tired, yet also new and fresh. It was in the soft tone, if Whips could pick up on that, and the way she now sat, as if she wanted to join Whips in lounging on the ground, but for completely different reasons then comfort.
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Post by whiplash on Jan 15, 2012 5:00:38 GMT -5
Whiplash narrowed his optics and stared into the night. His expression probably looked angry, but it was actually thoughtful instead. He was mulling over Jessica’s words. It wouldn’t make sense for him to protest that it was no different than running away from their problems. He was beginning to understand that humans were just different. They were different, perhaps in the same way that Autobots were different. They couldn’t stand under the strain of constant struggle, of constant war. They buckled. They broke.
Whiplash was thinking about things that had happened to him. There was a lot to go through for someone who had lived, by his species standards, for a relatively short time. What would have happened if he had run from all those things? If he had tried to remove his mind from the horror of reality? There was one answer that fit neatly at the end of every scenario: he would have died.
“Humans,” he concluded in a voice that was surprisingly without anger, or rancor--just quietly decisive, “are weak.”
He lowered his head, but did not make any demands of Jessica. He still seemed to be thinking, to be wrapped up in his own thoughts. Her tone of voice jarred him from them, though, and he raised his head again to look at her, once more bringing his head out of reach. He might not have been the most intelligent of mechs, but he was fairly good at reading others. He had to be. “You talkin’ about whatever happened to make you like that?” He nodded towards her as he spoke. “Do you need to do it, too?”
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Post by Jessica Ross on Jan 15, 2012 5:13:29 GMT -5
Jessica let out a sigh. "Humans might take offense to that. But no, we are not able to live in constant war. Humans were not truly meant for it," she answered calmly and she let her thoughts carry her away. She had not intended to voice her thoughts. She had not expected to Whips to pick up so quickly about had pulled her away. She carefully reached down to massage one of her legs and slowly, inclined her head in silent response before she answered vocally.
"That would be correct. Being different, while encouraged, is never a good thing with humans. They do not like people being different, yet applaud those that stand out, move against the current. We're a very confusing species," she responded with a tiny smile.
She already knew she was weak, in the body. And she couldn't do anything. She couldn't run, or be useful. She only had her mind on which to rely on, to escape and pull away from her life. While, no, she wasn't in the middle of a war, yet, and she was pretty sure her continued hanging out around with Whips, and letting him think of her as a pet, was probably going to bring her into their war.
She resisted the urge to groan about that.
Yeah, she didn't need to be labeled as anything when she was just herself.
She plucked a piece of beef jerky out the bag and began to eat the piece, slowly. She focused on the screen, but she wasn't seeing it, not really. She still continued to watch, however.
"Whips, what do you do for fun?" she asked innocently.
However, Jess felt she already knew the answer.
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Post by whiplash on Jan 15, 2012 5:27:29 GMT -5
Whiplash exvented in the closest he could come to a snort. “You can say that again. Nobody much likes it when you’re different,” he muttered darkly. His claws dug into the dirt momentarily, his frame tensing at some inner recollection, but when Jessica settled again, Whiplash forced himself to relax.
He wasn’t thinking twice about making Jessica a possible target. He knew that Autobots were disgustingly soft-hearted when it came to humans. He didn’t see the harm in being protective of your human, but there were just as many out there that he would be happy to smash. Nor did he exactly fear his fellow Decepticons targeting Jessica. While he was sure that a good many of them would like to put a fist through his face, he didn’t think anyone hated him enough to follow him all the way out here.
If they did, he’d deal with them.
Jessica’s question utterly derailed his train of thought. He looked to her and blinked slowly, his optics wide in an expression of genuine puzzlement. “Uh,” he finally responded, most intelligently. “…come and see you?” He offered, though it sounded more like a question than a response.
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Post by Jessica Ross on Jan 15, 2012 15:46:27 GMT -5
Jess blinked a bit at that. She tried to wrap her mind around the fact that, outside of the Decepticons, outside of the war, she was the only other thing in Whips's life. It was something that kind-of...surprised her. It didn't boost her ego, as it probably would have for Whiplash. No, for Jess, it horrified her a bit. She just tried to wrap her head around that as she stared at Whips.
Surprisingly, she didn't pity the 'Con. But...the fact made her sad. She hesitantly reached up and tried to run her fingers down his horns again. "Well, we'll have to see if we can hang out more often. Besides, even when people escaped for an hour, they always went right back into war. My brother says that 'things that don't have to do with fighting on occasion is needed so we don't all snap.' But, he's human, so I don't know if he's really someone I should be quoting in this sort of situation," she commented softly.
Her voice was gentle and soft, a quiet lilt that filled the air and she slowly leaned against Whips, hesitant if she was allowed. "Whips...how old are you? In human equivalent please," she asked.
"You obviously don't have to tell me, since I really don't have a right to know," she added, not sure of where she was situated with the big, to her, mech.
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Post by whiplash on Jan 15, 2012 23:20:51 GMT -5
Whiplash would have been proud that she didn’t pity him. He strove to convey strength, to be a figure that was too ferocious to be pitied. It was useful for survival. When she reached up, towards his horns, he blinked at her fingers for a moment, all four optics flickering, before he caught on and lowered his head, tilting it to give her better access. “Well, maybe that works for humans,” he conceded, “you guys do a lot of weird stuff, so maybe it keeps you all from going crazy or something. We Decepticons can handle it.” Whiplash was blissfully unaware of the irony of him preaching to another about mental stability.
At the girl’s soft question, he blinked again. He didn't comment on Jessica‘s humility, though he silently approved of the fact that she clearly knew her place. “Uhh… one nano-klik.” He pulled away from her again to think more clearly. “I figured this out before, but I forgot. Gotta run the numbers.” He squinted the two eyes on the right side of his face and concentrated. “I’ve already had my first reproductive cycle, so… uh… carry the one--it ain’t exact, of course, on account of how different we are, but I’d say… fifteen? No, wait, sixteen.”
He nodded and lowered his head again. “’Bout that. Old enough to make sparklings, if I wanted, but not as big as I’m gonna get.” Whiplash had long ago come to terms with the frustrating fact that he would not likely get very much bigger.
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Post by Jessica Ross on Jan 16, 2012 2:30:33 GMT -5
Jessica stared at Whips, waiting for him to finish, though as soon as he brought his head back into her reach, her fingers went back to petting his horns, soft gentle pets that also helped her relax. She blinked a bit and tried to imagine Whips as a sixteen year old human that was like this. She got a bit of a scary image.
A tough guy, dressed to scare people off...with a habit of enjoying having his head massaged. It was an interesting picture and reminded Jessica of someone she sort-of knew in school; a 'goth-punk' looking boy who was smart, but hated going to school. She figured that, if there was a human out there that was Whips, it was him. She stared at Whips and decided not to ask 'why the effeing hell are you fighting?'
"Isn't that kind-of young, even for a...Decepticon?" she asked, unsure of how to ask this question.
"Not that you can't handle yourself, of course. Just...seems young, I guess," she stated, hesitantly shifting to rest against Whips, enjoying the warmth that came from him.
She let out a low huff and added, "I'm human, but I'm learning."
It was just easier then to argue with Whips, for now. Maybe once they knew each other better, she would start to subtly shift his perceptions of humans, if she could. It would take more then one, probably, but she could deal with being a 'pet' for awhile.
At least he wasn't going to kill her and maybe, one day, they would be friends.
Time, and the use of non-logic, might change them both.
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Post by whiplash on Jan 16, 2012 19:19:50 GMT -5
“Well, if I could just decide to be fully-grown right now, I would,” Whiplash responded. Petting apparently worked to relax him, but it didn’t do anything to dull his sarcasm. “But that sort of thing takes time with Cybertronians.” He glanced her way, moving his head in a short, subtle fashion so as not to dislodge her fingertips.
He was unaware of Jessica’s thoughts on him, on where their tentative friendship was heading. He hadn’t put too much thought in the future. He just knew that, for now, Jessica was here, and she was pretty cool for a human, and he would visit her for as long as he liked. Whiplash didn’t really think of things in a long-term fashion; he had always lived moment to moment.
He had learned, during the war, that the quickest way to get yourself killed or at least seriously injured was to make plans and try and stick to them. You had to be light on your feet, flexible, and ruthless to survive, so he’d done what he could to make himself into a survivor. “And when you’re born, you’re either an Autobot, a Decepticon, or you’re about to be dead. There ain’t no age limit on that kinda thing. We’re in the middle of a war an' all.”
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