Post by greedyslayer on Jun 24, 2008 17:43:15 GMT -5
Notes: I have no knowledge on the actual mechanics of flight, so creative license.
If At First You Don't Succeed by greedyslayer
"Why didn't you program him with automatic flight capabilities!?" The Grub shuddered as Emperor Zurg brandished a claw at Nos-4-A2, who busied himself with climbing up the pillar again after falling from another attempted glide.
The vampire's red optics slid to Dad screaming at one of his underlings, but then flickered up as he continued his ascent; still, they were far too loud, his fangs grinding, irritated.
"But the technology for automatic flight capabilities isn't compatible with self-evolution yet; with that special AI protocol he's programed with, we let him start from scratch and he'll not only learn flight but continually improve it, and he'll be able to adapt to any situation aerial-wise. That, and with, er, the brief time frame you left us to finish up your work with him--"
Nos flinched a little as Dad exploded to a level he had never heard before in his admittedly short time, along with the Grub breaking down and shrieking madly. He shook his head, and gouged another claw in the wall, the surface crackling and breaking beneath his grip. The vampire's tail swayed slightly side to side as he climbed. Nos certainly could not walk with it, but in the absence of learning flight he did not crawl either; he was still left with a hovering capability, but all it could do was work as a substitute for walking--he could not hover to great heights.
Nos paused to stare as a squadron of Hornets flew past, to where, he hadn't the foggiest--most likely some sort of training exercise, or something similar. He followed their arc; they flew through jet propulsion. There was no such equipment for that on his body, he had checked the first time he had seen them fly; no rocket on his tail, not even on his back below the wings. Nos supposed flight will rely on them mostly, which he did not mind; Dad did most of the complaining anyway--Nos would concentrate on actually doing something about it.
Reaching the pinnacle of this particular height, the vampire's optics did not bother surveying the ground again; he had done it already, and was growing bored with it. He did not even bother taking a breathe as he flared his wings and launched his body with all his strength from the pillar; this time, he would not let too much time pass between wing-flare and launching, perhaps if he immediately jumped right after readying his wings--
Nos was plummeting. Fast. It was a familiar sensation. He narrowed his optics at the swiftly approaching ground; there was no use trying to angle upwards, even if he put his whole body into moving his torso up--gravity was simply too unrelenting. There was no use spreading his wings farther, for they were already at their limits--experimentally, cautiously, he tried moving them up and down. Too cautious--he moved them up and down faster. A pit of excitement expanded in his chest as his fall began to slow down slightly, and with that excitement, he flapped his wings faster. He growled as minimal decrease in descent vanished, and the vampire flapped even faster--
The Grub looked hopefully for a distraction in Nos-4-A2 making yet another clanging confrontation with the floor, but the crack of the crash seemed to only intensify the Emperor's rant, and he shrunk into himself further.
Half his face flat and hidden against the floor, half of it free and touched by the stale air conditioning in the lair. Not good enough. Failure is unacceptable. I need to be perfect. I will be.
Nos rose and made sure his wings were all right--he had not made sure to fold them protectively this time, miscalculating how fast the ground was coming up--before dusting his entire frame up, ignoring a few more dents to add to his growing collection. He was grateful for dents, he was durable enough to avoid broken appendages during practice. Nos restarted his climb, ignoring Dad's moans--"And just look at the mess he's making of the lair!"--and pondering his recent setback: it seemed he had upset a delicate balance in flapping; flap too fast, and it is useless for elevation, apparently. And rapid flapping seemed to only marginally slow descent--maybe if he flapped slower, but not as slow as the very first cautious try--some sort of intermediate speed...
This time a line of electricity sparked along the edges of his wings, but Nos' shock was too much for him to harness that and examine it; he slammed into the floor again, but got up quicker than last time, thrilled.
Interesting.
Ending Notes: Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure I remember at least a vague starting-up electrical charge around Nos-4-A2's wings.
If At First You Don't Succeed by greedyslayer
"Why didn't you program him with automatic flight capabilities!?" The Grub shuddered as Emperor Zurg brandished a claw at Nos-4-A2, who busied himself with climbing up the pillar again after falling from another attempted glide.
The vampire's red optics slid to Dad screaming at one of his underlings, but then flickered up as he continued his ascent; still, they were far too loud, his fangs grinding, irritated.
"But the technology for automatic flight capabilities isn't compatible with self-evolution yet; with that special AI protocol he's programed with, we let him start from scratch and he'll not only learn flight but continually improve it, and he'll be able to adapt to any situation aerial-wise. That, and with, er, the brief time frame you left us to finish up your work with him--"
Nos flinched a little as Dad exploded to a level he had never heard before in his admittedly short time, along with the Grub breaking down and shrieking madly. He shook his head, and gouged another claw in the wall, the surface crackling and breaking beneath his grip. The vampire's tail swayed slightly side to side as he climbed. Nos certainly could not walk with it, but in the absence of learning flight he did not crawl either; he was still left with a hovering capability, but all it could do was work as a substitute for walking--he could not hover to great heights.
Nos paused to stare as a squadron of Hornets flew past, to where, he hadn't the foggiest--most likely some sort of training exercise, or something similar. He followed their arc; they flew through jet propulsion. There was no such equipment for that on his body, he had checked the first time he had seen them fly; no rocket on his tail, not even on his back below the wings. Nos supposed flight will rely on them mostly, which he did not mind; Dad did most of the complaining anyway--Nos would concentrate on actually doing something about it.
Reaching the pinnacle of this particular height, the vampire's optics did not bother surveying the ground again; he had done it already, and was growing bored with it. He did not even bother taking a breathe as he flared his wings and launched his body with all his strength from the pillar; this time, he would not let too much time pass between wing-flare and launching, perhaps if he immediately jumped right after readying his wings--
Nos was plummeting. Fast. It was a familiar sensation. He narrowed his optics at the swiftly approaching ground; there was no use trying to angle upwards, even if he put his whole body into moving his torso up--gravity was simply too unrelenting. There was no use spreading his wings farther, for they were already at their limits--experimentally, cautiously, he tried moving them up and down. Too cautious--he moved them up and down faster. A pit of excitement expanded in his chest as his fall began to slow down slightly, and with that excitement, he flapped his wings faster. He growled as minimal decrease in descent vanished, and the vampire flapped even faster--
The Grub looked hopefully for a distraction in Nos-4-A2 making yet another clanging confrontation with the floor, but the crack of the crash seemed to only intensify the Emperor's rant, and he shrunk into himself further.
Half his face flat and hidden against the floor, half of it free and touched by the stale air conditioning in the lair. Not good enough. Failure is unacceptable. I need to be perfect. I will be.
Nos rose and made sure his wings were all right--he had not made sure to fold them protectively this time, miscalculating how fast the ground was coming up--before dusting his entire frame up, ignoring a few more dents to add to his growing collection. He was grateful for dents, he was durable enough to avoid broken appendages during practice. Nos restarted his climb, ignoring Dad's moans--"And just look at the mess he's making of the lair!"--and pondering his recent setback: it seemed he had upset a delicate balance in flapping; flap too fast, and it is useless for elevation, apparently. And rapid flapping seemed to only marginally slow descent--maybe if he flapped slower, but not as slow as the very first cautious try--some sort of intermediate speed...
This time a line of electricity sparked along the edges of his wings, but Nos' shock was too much for him to harness that and examine it; he slammed into the floor again, but got up quicker than last time, thrilled.
Interesting.
Ending Notes: Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure I remember at least a vague starting-up electrical charge around Nos-4-A2's wings.
I've never actually seen a fic about Nos-4-A2's life pre-series, although I've been wondering about it. Hey, he had to have been made at some point...
). So, Daddy Issues were not as clear cut as I remembered...but I could still see them. And so, I'll use them. Especially since I do enjoy his relationship with Zurg paralleling XR's with Captain Nebula.
