2017-07-05 Not a Very Informative Interview
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Not a Very Informative Interview|
|Location||Rigard - Central Garden|
|Summary||Aperture has a lot of questions for Whisper, who has a lot of silence for Aperture.|
Somedays are slow days for recording, sometimes you don't find anyone around who you haven't recorded already, sometimes you barely find anything at all. For Aperture, today was the latter, and as a result, Aperture was spending time and wasting recording trying to find something while slowly walking through the gardens, camera at the ready. His feet fell heavy as he went, humming quietly as he went, slowly panning back and forth across the landscape of the garden, focussing every so often on one of the pagodas. "This place is nice, but why is it so prime damned quiet!"
Whisper is a participant in the quiet of the gardens. She stands on one of the arching bridges, before a pool, her pointed fingers resting on the stone curve of the railing of the bridge. Her head cants, orienting on the sound of Aperture's voice as he speaks. She watches for a moment, her gaze a brilliant pale yellow behind the edge of her visor. The Decepticon stands, almost statue still, a hint of the quizzical in her directed gaze. Her low voice emerges from her frame, a mellow depth that might be difficult to hear if only there were noise to compete with in the hush.
"Does the quiet offend you?" she wonders.
Aperture moved to look up at her, his camera following swiftly behind, zooming in as he nodded. "As a matter of fact ma'am, yes, It does offend me. Too much time alone to one's thought's aint good for you ya know, especially aint good for film, hurts your head too. Now who might you be, ma'am, and what brings you to the prettiest place where nothing happens. God I miss the sounds of home."
The light of Whisper's yellow optics flicker behind her visor. She stands there a moment, processing what has more or less been an onslaught of words. She looks away, then, letting her glance angle across the green and growing things that populate the humid hush of the garden. She says, "I am Whisper," and hesitates over offering anything more, reluctant to explain herself, or perhaps uncertain what brings her here.
Aperture nodded, moving towards here and lowering the zoom, feet loud against the stone walk away. "Pleasure to meetcha, Whisper, name's Aperture, hope you don't mind bein' recorded." Finally someone to talk at, or talk to, one of those. "Nice place eh, good archetecture, nice place to look at if you're on your way to somewhere, eh?"
Whisper continues to stand almost preternaturally still, her fingers hooked against the railing of the bridge. Her gaze lifts to the camera, and her mouth shifts, a faint frown tucking its way into her expression before it fades again to the measured neutrality that is her druthers. Her inquiry cool, she says: "Do you derive entertainment from me?"
Aperture furrowed his brow, looking up as though trying to slowly compute her words before nodding to her. "Course I do, ma'am, I find most everyone entertaining, wouldn't be a very good artist if I didn't, right?"
Whisper's frown returns, her visored gaze on Aperture steady. It lingers as she seems to attempt to map his features, to draw some conclusion from the form of his frame, or from his earnest courtesy. Then she looks away again, her frown edging deep across the cast of her angled face. Her jaw is rigid, her arms tight in the brace of her hands against the rail.
The thing about Aperture is that, at the end of the day, he's a bit of an idiot with a complete one track mind, with a face that exudes an intense friendliness with nothing behind the eyes. He's a bit of a hefty guy, not helped by the accessories on his body, between the boom mic, the camera, and all the clips they can attach to, it looks almost silly. "Nice posing there, shadow's playing off you well, nice and intimidating, I love it. Where're you from?"
In contrast, Whisper is a figure of leanness and angles: the stealth jet's breadth lent it only by the sweep of her wingspan. The rest of her frame is subtle in its strength. Her stillness is motion contained, tension radiating through her in a way that reveals itself in movement only in the slightest shiver of those wings. She says, "Iacon." A beat passes, and then she says, "Or Scira. If you prefer." The Lost Light's brief tangle on Scira, in the gladiatorial arena, from which Whisper was rescued after a vicious history as a bloody killer in the pits. It is possible her prickle of reaction to being found entertaining is sourced in this.
(New BB message (1/11) posted to 'Announcements' by GameWiz: Welcome Robustus!)
Aperture grinned at her, nodding more. "Nice, nice, so are you a gladiator then? Pit Fighter? You seem like the kind of silent and quick killer, deadly at range but unstoppable if the gap is closed, or maybe you ran them, nah, you don't seem THAT cruel."
Whisper turns the full weight of her gaze upon Aperture. Her lips press thin and tight. Even the frisson of reaction is banished from her wings. She could be the same stone as the bridge on which she stands. She stares at him.
Aperture tilted his head, almost like a confused dog, still a bit blank there. "You alright there, ma'am?"
Contained and still with the full weight of her implacable stare leveled upon the befuddled puppy face, Whisper answers in a voice as cold as hard vacuum: "Yes."
"Good good, then we can keep this going. Alright, let's talk about the garden then, uhm, uhm." Aperture glances around, snapping his fingers as he tries to think up something. "oh, what's your favourite part of the garden here?"
Whisper continues to stare at Aperture. It is a little like being focused on by a bird of prey, except that instead of circling, the Decepticon just kind of stands there. Her lip curls very slightly and she says, upon a point of clashing their basic natures, "The quiet."
Aperture nodded with her words and just kept on nodding, kind of a bobble head of a bot. "Yeah yeah, get that, but, like, what thing in the garden do you like the most, which fixture?"
Whisper continues to stare at him, but finally tilts her head in an angled cant, the neutrality of her expression cut by the cinch of a query across her brow. She says: "Why do you ask?"
Aperture clipped his camera to his shoulder before making a hand motion like he was tossing some invisible ball around. "Well ya know, it's kind of my thing, I'm interviewing you, I want to know what you think."
Again, Whisper seems confounded. She says: "Why?"
"Well, because you know, it's entertaining, people like to know what other people think, especially when it's spliced together with cool imagery and stuff. Haven't you ever seen an artistic archive." Artistic Archive being a term Aperture made up for his form of archiving."
"No," Whisper says. It's possible that she has seen one and doesn't recognize the term. She stares at Aperture in visible bafflement -- though less arguable hostility than before. It's like he's speaking some other language.
"Come on, really, just a lot of archival footage cut up to be more artistic, less clinical, to evoke emotions in the viewer." Aperture was getting louder now, not helped by his tendency to get overly enthusiastic about this sort of thing.
"What emotions," Whisper says, although her intonation is too flat to really make this sound like a query. Tension has drawn her wingspan very straight.
Aperture furrowed his brow, shaking his head. "That's just sad, lady, makes me sad, we gotta remedy that. Here." He opened a bulky compartment on his hip, taking out a data drive and holding it out to her. "Take this, go to your hab suite and watch all five of those films on there, they're my personal favourites. I recommend you start with my expose on the great back alley racer Dirt Boss then end on my documentary on the evolution of races on Velocitron."
"No. Thank you." Whisper steps back, away from him, moving backwards over the bridge as though she fears that the data drive he proffers her might bite her or something. She eyes him quizzically for a moment more, and then turns on her heavy boot heel and begins to stride off across the garden towards the pagodas without another word.
Aperture furrowed his brow as she walked off, sighing. "what a weirdo... Wonder what her story is."