Post by greedyslayer on Jan 16, 2009 23:41:53 GMT -5
Notes: Well, it's been a while. 
This short fic is just a novelization of some parts of Nos-4-A2's first ep., an expansion too, some of his own thoughts and such.
Disclaimer: I don't own BLoSC of course.
You'll Always Remember
In the interests of the mission's success, Father had not allowed Nos to feed on anything. He had been running on a particularly long stretch of energy he started with when first coming on-line, certainly enough to pull off that impressive and efficient display against Agent Darkmatter and his Hornets, not to mention replenishing plenty from that, but now, in the coffin, a gratin gnawing sensation was swiftly growing in the pit of his chest and rising up his throat: the recharge was rapidly dwindling apparently.
There was a noise, and he listened raptly from within, arms folded over his chest, impatience reached long ago. He quietly perked up at the voice; it was the liviest thing he had ever heard before, even when it seemed intentionally muted down. Nos did not need the sound of rolling wheels to identify the creature, he could smell the basic scent of robot, then the overlaying and secondary scents of a more personalized nature. The scent--a liquid substance pooling in his own mouth--salivating.
Immediately, he started pushing the cover up; besides the sensation screaming for satisfaction, Nos would work toward the plan--Father had told him that besides feeding on other robots, he could simultaneously control them if he was careful. This lively thing would surely be useful in infiltrating Star Command. Out of the coffin, Nos flourished, stretching everything out, it had felt like he was in there forever. He looked, and the robot was...small. The smallest robot Nos had ever seen--well, all right, he had only ever seen the Hornets, but this one seemed only slightly larger than Father's Grubs. It was so--wow, was it little.
Its--the robot's, Little One's, his reaction was curious. Nos had seen something like this before with Father and the Brain Pods and the Grubs, but this Little One was reacting much more strongly--he had wrought a stronger reaction than Father, and Nos felt his head slightly spin from the heady sense of superiority. But the reaction by itself, without any comparison, it was still, instinctively...intoxicating. Tantalizing and fascinating and so very new. Nos called to him--'Little One,' he said, because that was what he was, so very little--then there was a struggle. Backed against the wall, Little One seemed to finally snap out of reactive passiveness and shoved Nos when he got just close enough, immediately diving to the side and wheeling madly away. The energy vampire found that he did want to play--but he had a mission to accomplish, and too much noise now might draw unnecessary attention.
So all in one motion he leapt, swiftly pinned Little One down, and covered his mouth with one huge claw, silencing him to only minor whimpers. Nos blinked at the others' optics; they were as lively as his voice, as his reaction.
After he had crushed his overthinking on how to do the deed, the vampire swiftly craned his neck, his whole body curved down, and bit down hard. The Little One emitted a feathery shocked gasp, then his breathing deepened and flunctuated, hyperventilating as Nos methodically sucked. It was...glorious, drinking it all in, the purest liquid, so sweet, so soft, Little One would succumb, was already succumbing... There was a string of notes to be plucked in the robot's energy, hooking itself to Nos' own mind--he pulled, looped it and bent it: sleep, for now, he lulled, lowering Little One into a state of unconsciousness, of quiet, with the order of secrecy upon waking up.
Nos set him down at first. Then, reconsidering, he gently propped him up against the wall, then retreated back to his coffin to keep up appearances. He flinched a little when Little One flopped back down, though the clang was surprisingly muted. The furious sensation in his body now purred happily, but he was only glad the ache had finally gone away.
(It had been hunger, and he would become intimately aware of it for the rest of his life).
This short fic is just a novelization of some parts of Nos-4-A2's first ep., an expansion too, some of his own thoughts and such.Disclaimer: I don't own BLoSC of course.
You'll Always Remember
In the interests of the mission's success, Father had not allowed Nos to feed on anything. He had been running on a particularly long stretch of energy he started with when first coming on-line, certainly enough to pull off that impressive and efficient display against Agent Darkmatter and his Hornets, not to mention replenishing plenty from that, but now, in the coffin, a gratin gnawing sensation was swiftly growing in the pit of his chest and rising up his throat: the recharge was rapidly dwindling apparently.
There was a noise, and he listened raptly from within, arms folded over his chest, impatience reached long ago. He quietly perked up at the voice; it was the liviest thing he had ever heard before, even when it seemed intentionally muted down. Nos did not need the sound of rolling wheels to identify the creature, he could smell the basic scent of robot, then the overlaying and secondary scents of a more personalized nature. The scent--a liquid substance pooling in his own mouth--salivating.
Immediately, he started pushing the cover up; besides the sensation screaming for satisfaction, Nos would work toward the plan--Father had told him that besides feeding on other robots, he could simultaneously control them if he was careful. This lively thing would surely be useful in infiltrating Star Command. Out of the coffin, Nos flourished, stretching everything out, it had felt like he was in there forever. He looked, and the robot was...small. The smallest robot Nos had ever seen--well, all right, he had only ever seen the Hornets, but this one seemed only slightly larger than Father's Grubs. It was so--wow, was it little.
Its--the robot's, Little One's, his reaction was curious. Nos had seen something like this before with Father and the Brain Pods and the Grubs, but this Little One was reacting much more strongly--he had wrought a stronger reaction than Father, and Nos felt his head slightly spin from the heady sense of superiority. But the reaction by itself, without any comparison, it was still, instinctively...intoxicating. Tantalizing and fascinating and so very new. Nos called to him--'Little One,' he said, because that was what he was, so very little--then there was a struggle. Backed against the wall, Little One seemed to finally snap out of reactive passiveness and shoved Nos when he got just close enough, immediately diving to the side and wheeling madly away. The energy vampire found that he did want to play--but he had a mission to accomplish, and too much noise now might draw unnecessary attention.
So all in one motion he leapt, swiftly pinned Little One down, and covered his mouth with one huge claw, silencing him to only minor whimpers. Nos blinked at the others' optics; they were as lively as his voice, as his reaction.
After he had crushed his overthinking on how to do the deed, the vampire swiftly craned his neck, his whole body curved down, and bit down hard. The Little One emitted a feathery shocked gasp, then his breathing deepened and flunctuated, hyperventilating as Nos methodically sucked. It was...glorious, drinking it all in, the purest liquid, so sweet, so soft, Little One would succumb, was already succumbing... There was a string of notes to be plucked in the robot's energy, hooking itself to Nos' own mind--he pulled, looped it and bent it: sleep, for now, he lulled, lowering Little One into a state of unconsciousness, of quiet, with the order of secrecy upon waking up.
Nos set him down at first. Then, reconsidering, he gently propped him up against the wall, then retreated back to his coffin to keep up appearances. He flinched a little when Little One flopped back down, though the clang was surprisingly muted. The furious sensation in his body now purred happily, but he was only glad the ache had finally gone away.
(It had been hunger, and he would become intimately aware of it for the rest of his life).
