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Post by Drift on Mar 22, 2011 22:40:34 GMT -5
"You...suppose." It's a different flavor of pigheadedness, but Drift knows this one, as well. "Got nothing better to do right now, it seems."
Oh, right. Energon's not going to teleport itself into the cell. Drift releases the death grip on his sword and grabs one cube, moving to the cell's slot. "Here. You first."
Hahahaha funny thing that. "Haven't...had much of a chance to worry about that sort of stuff." Recharge? Fuel? That's for later. But...that energon does seem awfully enticing.
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Post by Perceptor on Mar 22, 2011 22:52:30 GMT -5
"As long as there are not any more pressing matters, yes," Perceptor clarifies, unaware that he's being "pigheaded". He just thinks it's a matter of triage; he's functional, if not at peak efficiency as he is. There are others - such as Ramulus - who are in much worse condition than he.
Actually, Botanica may be out of the CR chamber by the time he is released (she is already, but he is not aware of that). As he accepts that small cube and absently begins to ingest it, he is already cataloging the repairs and steps that will be necessary to refit it and prepare it for Ramulus.
"Hm? Oh. Oh, yes. It has been rather frenetic since our departure, hasn't it?" He frowns and glances at the other cubes meaningfully, quirking one brow ridge upwards when he notes that Drift has not taken any for himself yet. "It is safe. I distilled it myself," he adds, taking a long drink that empties the small cube he has in hand.
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Post by Drift on Mar 23, 2011 6:59:43 GMT -5
Right. Science nerds. A bit dense. "You don't," Drift repeats, a little louder, "seem to have anything better going on right now." As in...physician, repair thy slaggin' self. Drift's gone into battle wounded, but even he gets that he's better at doing his job when he's actually running 100%.
Perceptor seems to go a bit blank. Probably thinking. Which is a bad habit. Drift grabs another cube and puts it to the slot. Fueling is useful. Reflection? Not so much.
Drift takes another cube, settling on the floor. Why not be comfortable--well, relatively speaking? It's a bit awkward, till he cants the Great Sword over to one side. "Frenetic's fine." War's fine. It's the peace that kills him.
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Post by Perceptor on Mar 23, 2011 12:26:50 GMT -5
Perceptor glances up as Drift sets another cube up for him. "Oh. Well, yes. Unfortunately, most of my damages will require materials from the medical bay. They're quite minimal, actually. I will ask Swerve to examine them once I am released. I promise," he adds, since Drift seems to be adamant about the point.
Drift also seems to be settling in, as if he wishes to stay and continue speaking with him. Perceptor isn't used to anything like this, honestly. Skyfire seeks him out now and then, but even the shuttle has other duties and not-infinite patience for Perceptor's rambling.
Perceptor takes that second cube and watches Drift thoughtfully, his processor beginning to brim with questions. His gaze fixes on that massive sword for a moment, and the questions multiply. "I, uh, brought a chair in with me? If you would be more comfortable?" he offers, nodding toward the far wall where his chair had ended up getting shoved in the very brief scuffle.
"Were we friends, you and the Perceptor you know from your home reality? Were you close, that is?" He cannot imagine why anyone would be willing to come to the brig and hang out with him otherwise. Unless Drift had nowhere else to go.
Of course. That must be it. Drift had already told him that he had not had "much of a chance to worry about that sort of stuff." He probably had not actually been assigned quarters yet.
"You may make use of my quarters, if you wish? I never utilize them, anyway, and my roommates are friendly. Quite gregarious, even, but they would respect your need for privacy, if you ask."
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Post by Drift on Mar 23, 2011 13:50:17 GMT -5
"I can get whatever you need from the medical bay." Kind of. "If, uh, you tell me what it looks like." Yeah, he tries not to pay attention during repairs beyond harassing the repair technician to hurry the slag up.
He shrugs. "Comfortable enough." When your basis of comparison is 'starving to death in the gutters of Cybertron,' your 'comfort' bar is pretty low.
"Perceptor--uh, the other one--we..." Oh frag how to explain this one? "We never actually talked. Never had a chance to." Drift realizes how...weird that sounds and buries it in a sip from his own energon. It's different from the kind he's used to. Not bad, just different.
"No that's fine. Can always find some place to crash if I need to." Empty room, airshaft....he's not really picky. The last thing he wants to do is be around too many other mechs.
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Post by Perceptor on Mar 23, 2011 15:26:12 GMT -5
And yet, he comes here, to be around one of the most annoying of them. Interesting.
Perceptor tilts his head, confusion plain upon his features, potential repairs forgotten in the face of this new puzzle. "You never spoke?" he asks, resting his tiny cube on one thigh. "But you knew who I was on sight? And you had my frequency? Were you taken in the midst of an attack? Is that why you keep your swords with you, even here?"
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Post by Drift on Mar 23, 2011 15:35:57 GMT -5
Drift glowers. He sees what you did thar, Perceptor, sidestepping the whole repairing thing. He'll let it go...for now. But it's not beyond Drift-logic to decide to ensure you follow up on that promise. Or else.
"Well," Oh frag. Here it goes. Drift grinds his optic shutters together, briefly. So much for THIS second chance. "We did kind of speak. Like...one exchange," even though Kup had done most of the answering, while Perceptor was busy staring at his armor. "But we, uh, fought...together." Kind of.
"And no. Swords are...all I have."
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Post by Perceptor on Mar 23, 2011 15:47:47 GMT -5
"So you were taken from the midst of a battle then?" Perceptor cannot imagine a version of himself that would not have tried to speak to Drift again, and perhaps wrangle some knowledge of that incredibly fascinating armor from him.
He is, in fact, very intrigued by it, himself. So much so, that he does not notice Drift's growing discomfort.
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Post by Drift on Mar 23, 2011 15:51:51 GMT -5
"Not...exactly." Expecting diplomacy from Drift is about like expecting Turmoil to start handing out foot-rubs as 'punishment'.
"He, uh, got hit." By my former boss. Yeah, leave that part out, Drift. Maybe he could skirt the probing questions by skimming over the rest. "I blew the ship and grabbed him just before it went off."
END OF STORY. Right? Nothing to see here. Move along.
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Post by Perceptor on Mar 23, 2011 15:59:27 GMT -5
Hit? And they have not spoken again, apparently?
"Oh." Perceptor nods. "I understand. A particularly debilitating injury, then. Fatal? Deceased versions of myself have arrived here before. Did he at least manage to perform some useful task prior to the felling blow?" he rambles, that last part almost wistful. He pauses, though, as Drift's words penetrate the thin fog of his already-dissipating fugue.
"You risked yourself for him?" he guesses.
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Post by Drift on Mar 23, 2011 16:05:16 GMT -5
"Uh, two," Drift corrects, frowning. Why is this so hard? He's hardly a virgin at describing combat trauma. Frag, he's even laughed about it. He cycles a vent. "One through the chassis, and later the right optic." That was a low blow. Deadlock would even have scorned it as a waste of energy. "He was running lock encryption on the blast doors." And talking too much. Yeah, definitely leave that part out.
"And he wasn't dead. Last I saw him, he was in a CR tank." Still holey.
And now Drift squirms outright, strong hands squeezing at the cube. "Wouldn't say 'risk'...."
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Post by Perceptor on Mar 23, 2011 16:11:25 GMT -5
Ow. "That sounds..." like overkill, really. "Ah, debilitating."
A CR tank? How intriguing. "I actually had not experienced the use of such a tank until Botanica constructed the first one. It is interesting that your reality utilizes them, as well."
That squirm, though, is far too obvious for even Perceptor to miss. And very telling, especially with the disclaimer. "You did risk yourself for him. And if you had only spoken together once, that implies that you had only just met?"
"Why?"
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Post by Drift on Mar 23, 2011 16:30:33 GMT -5
"It was. Uh...debilitating." Drift tries to shrug it off. "Actually thought he was offline when I went back for him."
Botanica? Never heard of him. Still, someone from his own world would be nice. Get some tips on these zombies and females and...other weird stuff. Maybe. "Maybe we're from the same world?" Oh, here's Drift, getting his hopes up.
"Yes, we'd met on that mission." There.That didn't sound at all bad. Just...stretching the truth so far it squeaked.
Oh you thought that squirm was noticeable? Good thing Drift's sitting on the floor--if he were on a chair, he'd've writhed right off. "...no one gets left. Not if there's a chance to save them."
Or be his salvation.
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Post by Perceptor on Mar 23, 2011 17:11:11 GMT -5
"Oh, no, I can guarantee you that Botanica is not from your reality. She comes from the same reality as the other partially organic mechanisms whom we have aboard. Cheetor and Rattrap and Ramulus, for example," he explains. "I am sorry." Perceptor can understand wanting some sort of familiar connection.
"Wait... You put yourself at risk for one whom you thought may have already been deactivated?" He turns to study Drift thoughtfully, a look of gratitude and hope in his optics. It is something Perceptor, himself, would have done, and having another who seems to share some of his... hope, perhaps, is a very welcome thing, indeed.
"What was the mission?"
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Post by Drift on Mar 23, 2011 17:18:15 GMT -5
Oh, well, thanks for crushing Pretty Bot's hopes there, Perceptor.
"...she? 'partially organic'?" He glances over at the store of energon. Is there enough to overcharge his way into a coma?
"I...uh...it wasn't much of a detour to retrieve him." Just...all the way from the engine room to the holding cells. Halfway across the ship. While time was running out. No biggie.
And he'd rather get punched in the face--repeatedly--than face that look of gratitude on Perceptor's face. He didn't deserve anyone's gratitude.
"The mission." Right. His had been revenge. And was entirely, entirely copycatted from Wing. "Rescuing Autobot prisoners on a Decepticon ship."
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