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Post by MP on Jul 19, 2018 15:33:54 GMT -6
Part of him was listening to the silent kitchen, alert for footsteps, uneasy at the sudden hush. Aaron hesitated, a mental stutter as he refocused on her question. He frowned at the floor for a moment, his features blank.
“Humanoid is a classic,” he answered unsmilingly. “But four-legged is more practical. Better load support and stability, so better armoring. It also wins out if we’re dealing with recoil on heavy artillery.”
The verdict was delivered in a grey, matter-of-fact tone. He could have been discussing carpet colors for all the enthusiasm in Aaron’s tone. But there was something subtle in his eyes, at the corners of his mouth, that betrayed a deadpan humor.
“The only right solution is to combine it with humanoid for knuckle-walking. Has the advantages of the four-legged model but lets us keep the punching ability. Or wrist blades,” he added hopefully.
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Post by jarahamee on Jul 20, 2018 2:05:41 GMT -6
From the kitchen, shared laughter, cut short. Cassius' harsh chuckle, rarely heard outside of work, and a few muffled thumps.
The scratching of chairs.
Water being poured. The faint acrid smell of tea.
Conversation continued at a low murmur, broken up by silence.
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Post by tsukikoko on Aug 8, 2018 5:33:50 GMT -6
"Ah, true..." Sara began, stroking the underside of her chin with the knuckle of her forefinger as she mulled over Aaron's suggestions, with an air that spoke of many similar conversations in the past. It had become a staple of their relationship; hypothetical battle tactics, heated discussions over the coolest looking robot in a roster, or flailing exasperated at terrible movie decisions, the two of them could often be found having what appeared to be a highly serious conversation, only for the topic to be decidedly geeky. "But the knuckle method brings it's own considerations past just weapons, ya know? Cockpit placement. Tah git best visuals, because ya divvint want tah, like, rely only on diagnostics, in case they fail under damage, ya'd 'ave tah be 'ead mounted. With the vertical plane, ya become a bigger target when ya stand and all those G-forces when ya moving that far from the centre of gravity would a bloody nightmare. So ya put it in the chest tah reduce those forces, ya know, but on the knuckle method, when ya walking four legged, ya lose a lot of visuals-" She makes a hunched shape with one arm, a finger of her other hand simulating the cockpit in question, "the 'ead, shoulders, back and even the arms could block view, so ya'd 'ave a reet few blindspots if ya targetting and camera systems failed."
The shifter's tail tapped the floor as she continued to think, drafting up a mental image of different mech builds, sizes and loadouts. Her expression morphed into the same one she used when thinking over a work problem - focused, with a twinkle in her eyes both curious and steely. "Orrr..." she said, suddenly, "-could ya go spider method? Plenty of stability with all those legs, can lift one or two for punching or blade attacks, or even 'ave 'em blown owt, like, withowt fallin' over. And with the more 'orizontal plane of the mech, ya could 'ave the cockpit at the top and centre for all round visuals, but sleek and, like, low-sitting so it ain't a massive target ya know? Like in a jet plane." She shakes her head and lifts her hands in a conceding motion, "Ya do lose manual dexterity with lack of fingers though, so less tool use and cliff climbing I reckon. Unless each leg 'as fingers, but christ, trying tah co-ordinate and wire those would be a sod, that many legs is 'ard enough as is."
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Post by MP on Oct 9, 2018 22:08:50 GMT -6
And so the conversation went, back and forth, a joint design that they developed between them. Aaron might not have been his usual self. His voice was too composed, the lines of his shoulders too straight to be fully at ease. But discussing the ultimate mech went a long way. His expression was milder, more relaxed here with Sara than it had been at any point in the recent days - even if his gaze sometimes flickered to the windows, or if he had to ask the shifter to repeat herself because he'd been keeping an ear on the kitchen conversation. Aside from that, it was almost normal. Enough that he could pretend.
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Post by jarahamee on Oct 11, 2018 18:31:08 GMT -6
The kitchen conversation seemed to be asking for updates on cases, discussing how bad the coffee was in this safe-house, and current puzzling leads for stump-worthy cases. He seemed decidedly un-concerned about the happenings in the other room, and perhaps he hoped that Aaron was carrying on as normal with his beloved Sara. He wondered, briefly, about where Vik was now, and what she was up to, but never brought it up with Officer Glacea. He simply carried on as if nothing had changed. And maybe it had not.
Things would go on, as they would. He had done a good job keeping most of his matters to himself,especially since Vik had been his attacker and worse. And what could he do about that? There was nothing to make it better, and it was best he did not even touch on it. No, what Telmore needed was space to rehabilitate himself, and maybe, personal space away from all of them once things were settled.
While he was being kept in captivity for his own safety, returning to his own home and people who loved him would probably have been better than being jailed with a half-mad hermit werewolf. Or at least he'd like to think. He was never sure how strongly others clung to sanity and normality. He himself knew it was just an illusion, ever-changing. There was so much of himself he had to suppress daily to pass as normal, but it did not bother him. As long as he could do his job, be just, protect others, fulfill his role. That was all he needed.
He challenged Glacea to an arm-wrestling match as they waited. It wasn't fair, but it was fun, and he did like his fun.
Aaron heard the resultant soft thumps, creaks and grunts through the door, and Glacea's subsequent cursing at her loss.
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