ಎ WELCOME

caleb is the best mod ever for dealing with my stupidity

Archie* was not a very happy cyborg this morning.

The reason why he was unhappy was pretty obvious the instant anyone walked within five feet of him. There was a rather insistent beeping coming somewhere from the vicinity of just behind his left ear. Anyone worth their snuffbox knew that he had a defunct temporal quantificator with tocsin attachment (version 2.01- brass).

Still, it had done it's job in the sense that he knew it was time for lessons, even if he couldn't turn it off, and his morning routine was followed through to perfection (check on the Master, insure he is comfortable, replenish coal, lube up) by the time he was trotting his way up the large stone steps which rose to a nondescript town-house.

Although the dull red bricks which made up the faηade of the front of the building was nothing spectacular, everyone knew that what happened inside was completely opposite. Lessons in only the best mechanics and mathematics, engineering and aesthetics, with the forerunners of their respective fields-- and Archie was one of them. In a way, at least. The most advanced cyborg and example of human and machine working in perfect harmony--

Well. That was a bit of an exaggeration. He was far more machine than he was human-- what was left of his body was more of a shell, more of an outer fitting, more of a decorative case to keep the dust out of delicate gears. He was maybe an 8:2 ratio of robotics to flesh, and even what flesh he did have wasn't live. It had lost any life well before they started soldering it to brass and stripping muscle to replace with wire.

He pushed the door open without thinking, a little too hard, and the heavy oak, reinforced with steel, slammed dully against the stone hallway inside.

"Sorry about that! I wasn't thinking." He called out, voice choppy although each word was smooth. His lips moved to form the syllables, although his jaw didn't move very much, and if you watched closely it looked as if he didn't have a tongue. It had been removed to make room for the coolant system which ran down his artificial trachea.

He removed his jacket carefully, leaving it draped over an arm. He wore a vest that would befit any gentleman-- passable quality, although a terrible fit. It hung on him loosely, and even then, if he turned too quickly it would tighten in unfortunate places and show the strange angles of his shoulderblades and spine, of the plugs and tubes of attachments. The high collar of his shirt hid most of the most worrisome ones, but it couldn't hide them all. He dressed in sombre, dark colours, because oil stains were less obvious in public.

His long face was in quite repose as he made his way towards the classrooms, past laboratories and workshops, mouth small and inexpressive. His hair was cut short and slicked down, although the part on the far left side went all the way from hairline to the nape of his neck. Any facial attachments and enhancements he had were not in use at the moment, safely tucked away somewhere unseen. He had thin brows and narrow eyes, and no matter his age would give off the aura of someone much older.

He continued inside, the soles of his specially made boots clanking hard against the metal floor, metal against metal creating a dull repetitive sound which mimicked the engines in the basement, clanking and chuffing loudly. Within half an hour, most students wouldn't even notice it, and to Archie it was the most welcoming sound in the world. When he thought poetically (which was rare), he supposed that it must be the metal mirror-image of the embryonic heartbeat.

*Archie was short for A.R.C.H.I.B.A.L.D., Artificial Robotic Construct Hardwired For Immediate Battle, Assassination, And Logical Destruction, but everyone thought even his trendy acronym was too long to say all the time.

Unfortunately, this roleplay has not had any replies for over a month and a half, so I've decided to move it to the Archive. If you would like itm oved back, please PM me.
- RJ