Noisy Boy, The Steel Samurai (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wakizashi_straight) wrote2012-06-18 07:23 pm
wakizashi_straight) wrote2012-06-18 07:23 pm
Entry tags:
He Sits Behind a Desk of Mahogany
who ; Noisy Boy and Tak Mashido
what ; Noisy Boy spends some quality time with his creator
where ; Team Noisy Boy’s Gym
when ; The night of February 7, 2016
warning(s) ; n/a
Noisy Boy’s optics flickered on. The lights in the training room were on, but low, and Tak Mashido was looking up at him. Considering… or determined. He wasn’t sure which. Still, his creator said nothing. just gripped his headset loosely in one hand. Training?
He raised his head to look around the room, before settling his gaze on Tak once more. There was no one else here. Usually with training there were more people. Usually with training Tak didn’t stare at him so. Eventually the human moved away to turn on a radio. The voice that came through it was talking about a match that had happened an hour before. Between reigning champion Gamma and some bot from Russia… Rubicon?
Suddenly, things started making sense.
Gamma had been beaten. Noisy Boy’s team had hoped that that honor would go to him, but some other bot with no previous record had done it. Now, defeating Gamma wouldn’t be a show of triumph. It would just be a nail in the coffin. And Tak Mashido was… upset? He didn’t think he’d ever seen his creator upset. Pleased, yes. Annoyed, once or twice. But upset?
He looked to Mashido again, watching him put the headset on. The report on the radio faded to a dull muffle that he couldn’t have made out. Not that he wanted to, really; whatever Mashido wanted was more important. He was bade to slide off of the table he’d been recharging on, and moved to the steel-banded block of concrete that was his punching bag. Mashido started putting him through his paces then, Noisy’s movements lightning-quick.
The commands sounded sharper than usual, more clipped. He must be upset. But, perhaps, if this helped him. It’s not as though Noisy Boy knew how to comfort him otherwise, or was capable. So he responded to the commands, flawlessly, in the hopes that it would calm Tak.
Noisy Boy couldn’t keep track of time, but it was daylight by the time Tak decided to stop. His arms dropped to a resting position as Tak walked him over to a work bench and had him sit down. He watched as the headset was turned off and removed; the radio faded back in, playing music. Noisy didn’t particularly pay attention, gaze drifting back to his creator.
Tak Mashido looked up at him for a few moments. He looked back. Then Tak picked up a few cleaning and paint supplies, and started to touch up the paint on Noisy Boy’s fists, the work careful. He didn’t seem to notice when one of the other members of the team walked into the training room. Noisy Boy didn’t particularly notice either, attention on Tak.
His creator.
what ; Noisy Boy spends some quality time with his creator
where ; Team Noisy Boy’s Gym
when ; The night of February 7, 2016
warning(s) ; n/a
Noisy Boy’s optics flickered on. The lights in the training room were on, but low, and Tak Mashido was looking up at him. Considering… or determined. He wasn’t sure which. Still, his creator said nothing. just gripped his headset loosely in one hand. Training?
He raised his head to look around the room, before settling his gaze on Tak once more. There was no one else here. Usually with training there were more people. Usually with training Tak didn’t stare at him so. Eventually the human moved away to turn on a radio. The voice that came through it was talking about a match that had happened an hour before. Between reigning champion Gamma and some bot from Russia… Rubicon?
Suddenly, things started making sense.
Gamma had been beaten. Noisy Boy’s team had hoped that that honor would go to him, but some other bot with no previous record had done it. Now, defeating Gamma wouldn’t be a show of triumph. It would just be a nail in the coffin. And Tak Mashido was… upset? He didn’t think he’d ever seen his creator upset. Pleased, yes. Annoyed, once or twice. But upset?
He looked to Mashido again, watching him put the headset on. The report on the radio faded to a dull muffle that he couldn’t have made out. Not that he wanted to, really; whatever Mashido wanted was more important. He was bade to slide off of the table he’d been recharging on, and moved to the steel-banded block of concrete that was his punching bag. Mashido started putting him through his paces then, Noisy’s movements lightning-quick.
The commands sounded sharper than usual, more clipped. He must be upset. But, perhaps, if this helped him. It’s not as though Noisy Boy knew how to comfort him otherwise, or was capable. So he responded to the commands, flawlessly, in the hopes that it would calm Tak.
Noisy Boy couldn’t keep track of time, but it was daylight by the time Tak decided to stop. His arms dropped to a resting position as Tak walked him over to a work bench and had him sit down. He watched as the headset was turned off and removed; the radio faded back in, playing music. Noisy didn’t particularly pay attention, gaze drifting back to his creator.
Tak Mashido looked up at him for a few moments. He looked back. Then Tak picked up a few cleaning and paint supplies, and started to touch up the paint on Noisy Boy’s fists, the work careful. He didn’t seem to notice when one of the other members of the team walked into the training room. Noisy Boy didn’t particularly notice either, attention on Tak.
His creator.