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Post by Perceptor on Sept 12, 2007 20:08:09 GMT -5
Perceptor sighs a little sadly - but quietly, lest Swerve hear and come storming out with his exhaust on fire - as Swerve vanishes into the other room. Perceptor is no stranger to a relatively solitary life, however all that anger... He shakes his head absently and turns back to his work area.
"There is little more that I can accomplish here at the moment; that is acceptable to me," he replies as he fishes through one of the bins on the workstation.
"Will this suffice?" he asks, offering Kup a replacement etching stylus. Amazingly useful little tool, that. Just as good for etching on circuitboards as on impromptu notepads.
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Post by Swerve on Sept 12, 2007 22:11:19 GMT -5
Swerve tries not to dwell too much on things while he busies himself with looking for viable parts to remove. It isn't working well; the parts haul is alright, but his processors just keep grinding away. His exhaust systems kick in to stay his rising temperature and he can already hear the alarm that hasn't yet sounded but he just knows will, which just annoys him even more, escalating the problem further. He's supposed to be cooling down, Primus frag it!
There's no problem at first, but as time wears on, Kup – before he takes his leave to visit Omega Supreme – and Perceptor can probably hear the muttering that fires up. It inadvertently disguises the growing whine of Swerve's overworked cooling fans. Give it a few more minutes and the morgue may be just a bit warmer.
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Post by Kup on Sept 12, 2007 22:36:01 GMT -5
"Yeah, that'll do," Kup answers, accepting the etching stylus. "I, erm, hope you won't be needing it back though? If so, I'd better use something else. Now, if you'll give me a moment to radio Omega..."
And he does so. In another post. It will probably be titled, "Radio: Kup to Omega Supreme."
However, while he's working out the details, a low muttering can be heard from the morgue. The elder frowns, and heads over to it, peeking through the door. "Hey, you all right in there, lad?" he asks.
Believe it or not, he doesn't use 'lad' to intentionally piss anyone off. It's used habitually and, quite often, somewhat fondly. But then, there's little that doesn't piss Swerve off.
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Post by Perceptor on Sept 12, 2007 23:03:40 GMT -5
Perceptor waves away his concern negligently. "I had already constructed several. They are easily replaced," he replies, an odd tone in his voice suggesting that it's rather pleasant to be able to so easily fufill someone's request for once. Perhaps it's really more about being able to fufill someone's request so exactly, rather than trying to cobble something together from scrap, salvage, and wishful intentions.
Catching the edge of the mutters, Perceptor tosses a concerned glance in the direction of the morgue, as well, however, he does not approach.
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Post by Swerve on Sept 13, 2007 1:56:59 GMT -5
"I'm fine," Swerve answers Kup very tersely. If anyone doesn't expect that answer to that question from Swerve by now, that person is a fool.
He really is alright. For now, at least. Heating up but not yet critical and trying to scale back processes while he pulls free several lengths of wiring from a leg of Optimus Prime is still 'fine'. He'd probably say he was fine even if overheat alarms were sounding at him.
His standards of health are a bit… peculiar.
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Post by Kup on Sept 13, 2007 14:34:57 GMT -5
Kup expected it, but he was going to ask, anyway. In fact, that's why he took the time to look as well. But with Swerve's answer, he shrugs. "All right, then." He's not going to argue too hard at the moment; a lot of them are pushing themselves pretty hard, anyway.
Then he turns back to Perceptor and nods. "All right. Thanks, Perceptor." He slides both etching stylus and notepad into subspace, and adds, "Omega says he's fine with you listening in, so we can go ahead and head down that way."
OOC: Erm... I guess this means that whenever Perceptor can post, and my turn comes back around, we should go ahead and start a new thread for chatting with Omega Supreme. Sorry for leaving you in the dust there, Swerve! On the other hand, I s'pose if you do something that calls for us sticking around, we can do so.
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Post by Swerve on Sept 13, 2007 21:17:51 GMT -5
OOC: Swerve and Kup are continuing here for now to pass the time. The oldtimer and the mouthpiece will be off to talk to the monolith as soon as Perceptor can get back to posting.
Kup's still standing there. Swerve glances up every now and again – really, it hasn't even been half a minute, but the racer doesn't do patient very well even on a cool day – while he works. Or tries to work. His concentration is just this side of shot already and Kup just standing there, even with his back turned, isn't helping matters at all. Swerve tries to ride it out. He really does. But starting off too hot under the collar is more handicap than he can handle.
Especially when he catches his own fingertip in the wire cutters. He slams hands and tool to the table but bites back the reflexive curse that leaps to mind.
"Somethin' else you want?" he demands, glaring at Kup.
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Post by Perceptor on Sept 13, 2007 22:10:21 GMT -5
Hmm. From the sounds emanating from the morgue, now might be an ideal time to abscond to talk with Omega.
"Ah. Very good. At your convenience, then, Kup," Perceptor replies, quickly setting his work area to order for his return.
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Post by Kup on Sept 13, 2007 22:23:05 GMT -5
"Hey, hey, careful!" Kup says as Swerve nicks his finger. The elder sighs and rubs his forehead. "It's nothing that can't wait, Swerve," he finishes a bit lamely. "I'll catch you later."
Boy, that's encouraging, isn't it?
He turns to Perceptor and nods. "Best be on our way, then." And with that, the elder walks to the top of the ramp, then stops. Tempting to transform and roll out there, but with Perceptor along, he's better off walking. So he does just that.
Going to start a new Interviews thread, given how long the other one's stood idle.
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Post by Swerve on Sept 15, 2007 17:53:36 GMT -5
Oh look. Swerve hasn't left repair yet. He's done scavenging for spare parts – at least for now – but there are still the sounds of someone busy at work filling the area. Well, the sounds of Swerve at work. No-one else around here uses quite that mix of language. At least he's back down to indulging only periodically in a quick spate of muttering. Mostly, he's concentrating on his work at this point, prodding and tweaking and replacing worn hoses and wiring in one leg.
If you're looking for bedside manner, you'd best steer clear of repair for a while. Dr. McCoy, Swerve ain't.
OOC: Yup, Swerve's kind of accidentally on shift in repair. Damn those circumstance things.
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Synapse
Minor
Do not touch...please
Posts: 380
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Post by Synapse on Sept 15, 2007 20:40:17 GMT -5
The landing is haphazard and there's now a small clearing in the woodland around the city that didn't exist before.
Synapse re-enters the base, his steps slightly uneven and plating dulled with scratches and a few dents as he makes his way repair. His condition is nothing to worry about, nothing a little recalibration and buffing can't fix. What he's more eager to show is the corpse in his arms and the rest of the recordings that he managed to take.
By the time Synapse reaches repair, his gyros have fully stabilized, his off-beat canter giving way to light quick steps down the hall. The sight of no Perceptor in the room has Synapse freezing the doorway, his excitement replaced with uncertainty. It's surprising that he actually hears Swerve before seeing him. Catching a view of the racer is what jolts Synapse out of his confusion and he stiffens. It's as if someone has called him immediately to attention.
"Ah...apologies. I didn't think that anyone else would be here..." Synapse steps into the room, body cradled in an almost protective fashion as he gives Swerve a quick apologetic nod. He can't flee just yet. "...You wouldn't happen to know when Perceptor will be returning?"
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Post by Swerve on Sept 15, 2007 21:17:25 GMT -5
Swerve glances up at the nervous voice; the movement is neither quick nor slow, but he looks intensely suspicious for a half-second, hands stilling in the middle of reattaching fresh wires to a servo that has seen better days above his ankle.
"…Oh," he mumbles as recognition sets in, "it's you. Synapse, right?" He hasn't seen the jittery scout much lately. He still remembers that little incident with the node things. Rather vividly, in fact. Swerve looks back down to his leg so he can double-check things. "No, dunno when he'll be back. Why?" His dull bronze stare flits over the thing Synapse carries. It's a quick glance, long enough to take in that it's mechanical, it's dead, and it doesn't quite look like anything he's ever seen before in his life. Like that's a surprise around here. "Bringin' him more spare parts?" is the racer's incurious question as he looks back down at his ankle.
Swerve finishes up much more quickly than he's been working, then shuts the panel and stands, testing his leg; it doesn't quite have full range yet. He'll finish the fine-tuning later. The other will have to wait a bit longer.
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Synapse
Minor
Do not touch...please
Posts: 380
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Post by Synapse on Sept 15, 2007 22:49:46 GMT -5
Synapse tries not to remember any sort of accidental (or in other cases, not so accidental) node encounters. It's better for his own state of mind, even if it doesn't always work. Swerve's incident is more overshadowed by the contact made with the Decepticon during the large battle at the power plant. What's a small brush in comparison to a laser blast? So yes, overshadowed...but not completely blocked out.
"Yes, Synapse. And you're Swerve," his words are more of an self-informing statement than an inquiry. Swiftly, he makes a visual pass of the room, searching for a place to set the body down in. "Ah, no, not spare parts. I found this while amidst the asteroid field. I thought that perhaps Perceptor would like to examine it." Synapse doesn't know that perhaps the others don't know of this asteroid belt yet.
He almost takes a few steps back when Swerve stands. But he remains where he is, having spotted an ideal spot to place the body in. "Please, don't trouble yourself. I was--I'll be leaving the body for Perceptor. I'll be out of your way soon." Synapse shuffles backwards and then goes to deposit the body onto a counter-top in a round-about fashion. He fights not to tilt his head back and give Swerve periodic darting glances while arranging the limbs in a reasonable fashion.
"Ah...are you in need of any assistance?" As soon as the words are out of his mouth, it snaps shut, though his back is towards the racer. It was the polite thing to do, to ask. But--ah well, too late.
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Post by Swerve on Sept 15, 2007 23:35:08 GMT -5
Swerve remembers primarily because the whole thing torqued him nearly into an overheat. What with the snapping about nodes and whatnot. But he apologised and it seemed to've worked out, sort of, with the kid at the time. Some events tend to stick with Swerve. That happens to be one of them.
"Whatever," is Swerve's answer to the talk of asteroid belts and examining things. Must be something the Autobots were talking about with each other. Mostly, he's no more interested in closing the distance between them than Synapse is and occupies himself with sorting through the hoses and tubing he salvaged. Gonna have to flush them out. And Primus is Synapse jumpy. Swerve would tell the kid to calm the smelt down, but really, he's keeping a wary optic on the scout, so he hasn't much room to talk.
Oh, good. He's getting out. Swerve can go back to his patchwork. The racer stiffens and shoots a sidelong glare at Synapse's back when the teal mech has to go and ask about help. What is it with Autobots and asking that all the fragging time?
"No," mutters Swerve with the same distaste for that word he showed Perceptor, "I don't need any help."
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Synapse
Minor
Do not touch...please
Posts: 380
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Post by Synapse on Sept 16, 2007 8:27:11 GMT -5
Synapse is this jumpy around most everyone.
"As you wish..." He winces at Swerve's answer. Asking to help is an Autobot thing to do, isn't it? Well, the racer has every right to refuse his offer and Synapse isn't about to protest. He winces again, but this time it has nothing to do with Swerve. More with the stinging protest for a cleaning from his nodes. The dust--the dust! Synapse bites in a disappointed cry when he realizes that he has collected nothing else in terms of samples from the asteroids.
All the more reason to go and carry out the cleaning process. He turns and offers Swerve another quick nod and quickly moves to retreat out of the room.
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