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Post by Swerve on May 3, 2011 20:55:20 GMT -5
OOC: Month 3, Week 2, Day 6. Semi-private thread.
Given his tendency to avoid social encounters and haunt the sim room or the back rooms in medical where he has easy access to the press and fabricator, it may or may not have been noted that Swerve has been more scarce than usual the past week. He hasn't even stopped by his quarters for rest; he's been too busy.
Piece by piece, one part at a time, he's been working on himself. He hates the way he moves – he's felt too stiff. He scowls at unhappy memories even while he grabs the chains hanging from the hoist boom pulls himself and his wheeled stool closer to the workbench where his legs, stripped down with large portions of the internal mechanisms removed, lay beside obviously new replacement parts waiting to be installed. Even though the hip spar that replaced the one Bonecrusher ruined is still new, Swerve feels a twinge to accompany the memories.
I shouldn't have gotten caught that easy. He sets to assembling one leg after self-consciously rubbing that aching thigh as if to soothe away the phantom pains. With any luck, the improved joints and hydraulics he's engineered after the usual trial and error – with much less minor repair to be done with the sim room making random injuries almost dangerously rare – will fix how sluggish and clumsy he's felt ever since tangling with the big ugly guzzler.
He sets into his project, determined to get it finished and his limbs reattached quickly. His single-mindedness narrows the whole world down to this one back room in medical; there's no outer area, no door, and no radio.
"How often does anybody radio me anyway?" he mutters at his screwdriver.
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Post by Kup on May 3, 2011 21:44:02 GMT -5
Someone has noticed that Swerve's stopped coming by his quarters. Someone who shares those quarters. Normally Kup would have waited a bit longer before bothering with the search, except that the veteran has had to deal with medical staff getting into trouble after skipping defrag pretty recently.
What is it about the techs and their needing to be put to bed like damned fresh paints?
And so it is that Kup is actively looking for Swerve, and he naturally starts with the likeliest suspects, starting with medical. He doesn't really expect to find the Velocitronian in the first place he looks, so he's pretty surprised when he does just that, at least, after a bit of back-room checking.
"There you a-" he starts, then narrows his optics as he gets a look at just what Swerve is doing. "Y'know, lad, if you just asked around, I'm sure you could find someone willing to lend you a hand with that."
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Post by Swerve on May 3, 2011 22:05:07 GMT -5
Swerve wasn't expecting anyone to actually come looking for him. If he had, he'd have remembered to lock the door. Halfway through reattaching one finished leg, he goes stock still when Kup seems to just appear in the doorway chiding him.
"…Didn't feel like asking," he mutters. He hasn't even locked in this knee yet, so if he lets go of his leg, it's going to fall right off. So much for throwing more than a glare at Kup. "Been a lot going on. I figured it'd be easier if I just took care of it myself." Easier for himself as much as for anyone else, because asking for help still doesn't come naturally.
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Post by Kup on May 3, 2011 22:18:32 GMT -5
Kup snorts. Though he's no technician, even he can see that the leg isn't quite attached. He walks around Swerve and kneels down, reaching out for the leg to steady it. He does this without asking, but his movements are steady and gentle. He glances towards Swerve - if the racer objects, he'll back out.
"When's the last time you been through a defrag cycle?" he asks bluntly.
OOC: Leg grabbing with permission.
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Post by Swerve on May 3, 2011 22:35:48 GMT -5
Swerve stiffens visibly at the unasked-for assistance, but doesn't quite bristle and doesn't warn Kup off. Yet.
"Other day," he answers at length, letting loose with a grumbling sort of sigh. Since Kup is being helpful, Swerve focuses on securing the joint and checking all the connections to make sure none of the fine wires was dislodged. He's nowhere near comfortable with the extra pair of optics so close while he works despite allowing it; Kup might be able to tell, though the racer's scowl largely fades as his concentration builds. "I just stayed here instead of tooling all the way to quarters and back." He glances up and his frown returns. "Why?"
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Post by Kup on May 4, 2011 7:03:52 GMT -5
"Recent enough," Kup mutters when Swerve explains the last time he defragged. He's always been one to favor once every day or two when the situation allows it, just because you never knew when the situation would suddenly stop allowing it for long periods, and coming into those situations a couple of days behind means you're already at a disadvantage.
Kup's hands remain steady as Swerve works, and though he notices the scowl, he ignores it. Swerve simply accepting help is a big step up. It's still early to expect him to actually seek it out on his own.
"After the battle, Perceptor skipped out on it to the point where he was starting to go a bit jitter-clocked in the processor, so I'm just making sure that genius's particular brand of idiocy ain't catching."
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Post by Swerve on May 4, 2011 16:23:14 GMT -5
"Not resting up is stupid," Swerve pronounces, slightly muffled with his head tilted down and his chin jammed against his breastplate, "especially when there's work to be done. How am I s'posed to do the little detail stuff if I'm all worn out and vapour-headed?" It's largely rhetorical mumbling, but the tubes and wires he's tending make a fine incidental illustration. He'd be making a righteous mess of things if he was exhausted.
With everything in place and hooked up, he finishes tightening up the knee joint itself before sliding the casing into place. He gestures for Kup to let go and if Kup does so, Swerve can flex his leg to make sure the movement meets expectations.
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Post by Kup on May 4, 2011 17:55:57 GMT -5
"Hey, I ain't arguing the point," Kup answers. Of course, there have been times when he's run himself ragged, too. Consequently, how 'wrong' it is to not rest up tends to more relate to how much not resting up annoys or inconveniences Kup personally more than anything else.
When Swerves gestures, Kup lets go of the leg so the racer can test it.
"What is this, anyway?" he asks. "Don't recall you taking injuries there, and if you did, they'd have been dealt with by now, anyway."
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Post by Swerve on May 5, 2011 16:11:49 GMT -5
Swerve doesn't answer until after he's given his new knee several test swings and, leaning heavily on the hoist chains to get to his foot, put his full weight on it, then crouched – keeping one hand near the chain all the while to catch himself just in case – and stood again. Satisfied, he sets himself back on the bench and goes to work on the other leg.
"Not injuries," he says, checking what will soon be some of his new cooling lines. "I don't like how I've been moving. Too slow, too stiff. So I'm fixing it."
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Post by Kup on May 5, 2011 21:38:33 GMT -5
Kup mutters, "Well, some of that just comes with age." He watches as Swerve tests himself and admits, "Still, can't fault anyone for wanting to prep better after that last fray."
He leans against a nearby work bench and adds, quiet and sincere, "By the way, thanks for that."
Then, louder, back to a more conversational tone, he asks, "Since I'm here, you want any help with that?" Not 'need.' Kup's phrasing underscores the idea that Swerve doesn't need the help. "I'm no tech, but I can hold things straight and follow directions."
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Post by Swerve on May 6, 2011 9:43:57 GMT -5
For a very long several seconds, Swerve just stares at Kup. He isn't angry – not fully, and not at Kup, really – just vaguely irritated in general, and largely puzzled by the thanks, the advice, and the offer.
Why thank me? Isn't like I did anything he wouldn't– He blinks at his own train of thought and focuses abruptly on his work. He's silent a while longer. "…You'd have done the same for me," he finally murmurs without a hint of uncertainty, though the realisation is a few microns into unsettling. "But I've never gotten help with this in all the times I've done it," he adds. It isn't a boast, nor a real rejection; it's simply a statement of fact. "It's just some upgrades." Simple stuff compared to some of his repertoire.
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Post by Kup on May 6, 2011 21:36:13 GMT -5
Kup grins wide, a pleased, slightly cocky grin. "Yeah. I would have," he agrees, giving the faintest nod of his head as he does. More than anything else, though, he's pleased that Swerve actually realizes that. But then he doesn't say anything more on the subject.
He shrugs as the racer says he's never gotten help before. "Don't mean you can't get help now," he points out.
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Post by Swerve on May 7, 2011 23:44:52 GMT -5
"I never said that," Swerve grumbles, pausing to rest one hand on his unattached leg. He gives Kup's smirk a sour scowl, but it's gone again shortly. His optics dim, fading to a dull bronze. "Just… after fifteen full laps and more pit stops like this one than I can remember…." Lightly, he pats the fender. "I just got used to handling it all myself." He made sure before he set into this that he had the things he'd need, like the hoist and seat with wheels, his tools, and everything in easy reach of supplies and machinery. It's all a matter of old, hard-dying habits.
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Post by Kup on May 8, 2011 21:31:07 GMT -5
Kup dips his head. "Yeah, I know what you mean. When you're used to only having yourself to turn to, gets hard adapting to having others there for you." And Kup does know. He's been there. Alone for years, and then having to get used to being around people, counting on others, being with other people you could count on... and Swerve's already heard that story, anyway.
He looks at the other leg. "You just need someone to hold it steady when you put it back on, like you did with the other one?"
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Post by Swerve on May 8, 2011 21:54:21 GMT -5
"Uh." Swerve wallows in his inarticulate awkwardness for a moment before adding, lamely, "That's fine." He pauses again. "But I gotta finish the checks first." A task he completes in short order. The sooner he's done with this, the sooner his leg will be attached and the sooner Kup will leave. There are several other joints – and two unassembled but complete, in pieces, arms – waiting on the other benches and on counters and a great deal more work to be done.
Stifling the sort of undercurrent grumbling that he seems to only have started doing lately when nervous, which he rarely is, Swerve loosely slots the knee joint together so that Kup can make good on his offer.
"Right there," he directs.
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