One Flew Over The Seeker’s Nest

[Sentinel Prime]

Day Two

Semi-private. If you haven’t been invited, at least check first, please?

Arak’ham Asylum, or whatever this place is called, is a busy, busy place, nearly overflowing. It is one part psychiatric institution, one part overflow for the prisons.

But Sentinel Prime is lucky enough to have a solitary confinement cell.

He was just that annoying, in his transport here.

It’s padded and what might have been once a soothing cream colour – now, it’s just dingy. The lights are either painfully bright or annoyingly dim and don’t seem to have an in-between setting.

Arak’ham has hosted robots before, and his radio is blocked. The cell walls, floor, and ceiling, underneath the padding, as quite strong enough to keep him inside.

The straight-jacket is made of woven bridge-steel.

They even pumped him full of a cocktail of the usual robo-sedatives.

"Ick."

Sentinel Prime's head sort of lolls to the side.

"Ick."

He's not one of the usual robots on Pz-Zazz.

And no one on Pz-Zazz has ever heard of subspace, it seems.

"Ick."

[Tasha Walker]

It doesn't take too long for Blackarachnia to find out where Sentinel was taken. The streets here are alive with all the gossip about the newcomers and the chaos they bring with them. So at first opportunity, she slipped back out to pay her old beau a visit.

But first a stop off at a lovely boutique to take advantage of the smaller Ravage's gift to her. If she's to be cast in the role of the femme fatale, she wants to look the part, after all. Plus there's that pesky symbol at her collar that needs to be hidden.

When she emerges from the shop, she sports a luxurious full-length fur coat, a black cloche hat trimmed in the same fur, and silk gloves. The Decepticon symbol at her throat has been expertly painted over, a black orchid gracing that area instead.

Now to go calling upon her "poor, unbalanced cousin."

---

Ani Ravage set Blackarachnia up with the same type of credit line as Needlenose, per arrangements w/ Ravage's player. She will arrive at Arka'ham on next pose. Wanted to give our other player a chance to post in.

[Oil Slick]

Oil Slick has heard the gossip as well. He has similar, yet at the same time, different plans than Blackarachnia. He's set himself with a business suit in dark shades of green, from a men's store not too far from the boutique. Amazing how charitable these organics can be when put under suggestion...

Oil Slick steps out, also having gotten his symbol painted over, having stowed his leg-mounted barrels away in subspace along with the spikes normally mounted on his forearms, and the windscreen part of his motorcycle mode that normally rests on his shoulder. Alas, unlike Blackarachnia, his kibble isn't quite as forgiving when it comes to clothing. However, there are benefits to being entirely mechanical. His head-bubble is retracted as well, completing the look of a (fairly) normal bipedal Pz-Zazz inhabitant.

Oil Slick heads for Arak'ham, more than likely inadvertently tailing Blackarachnia.

[Sentinel Prime]

Sentinel Prime really, really feels sick. Fevered, even. The sedatives the doctors here gave him are seriously making him ill.

He can't think straight, can't even coordinate his own body.

Don't upset the locals. Don't make a fuss.

Hah.

Hah hAH ha.

His laugh sounds weird, even to him.

He's not making any trouble now, is he?

And why are the stars so bright?

[Tasha Walker]

It doesn't take Blackarachnia long to persuade her way past the wardens and into a waiting room. Not that she thinks they bought her cousin story, but they didn't really care. They just wanted to make sure she could pay the "visitor's pass fee" and then asked her to make a donation toward her "cousin's" upkeep. Now she just has to wait for them to fetch him up to a room they don't mind the public seeing.

She takes a seat on a wide bench and crosses one knee over the other. Shouldn't take too, long, really. Unless Sentinel gives them trouble.

She hopes he does.

[Oil Slick]

Not far behind, Oil Slick follows suit. His little vial of suggestions is more than enough to get the wardens believing that he's a psychiatrist, here on request of Sentinel Prime's family, to analyze him and advise treatment, or see if he's clear to leave.

Of course, the chemist has no intentions of giving the Elite Guardsman a good report...

However, he notices Blackarachnia when he enters the waiting room, taking a seat across the room, crossing his arms.

//...fancy meeting you here.//

[Sentinel Prime]

Sentinel Prime doesn't put up a fight, because he's weak as a kitten right now, and the walls appear to be melting, all around him.

The staffers wrangle him into a chair and chain his arms and legs to the chair, not looking at his 'relative' and 'psychiatrist'. The skids were greased. They don't care. They'll just charge extra if there's a mess to clean up, when this is over. They depart, likely for a smoke break.

Sentinel Prime starts tilting over in the chair.

He thinks, is it time yet?

And no, it isn't time.

Not until he can see straight.

"I don't know you. Should I?"

[Tasha Walker]

Blackarchnia's expression doesn't change even as she snarls back at Oil Slick.

//Get in my way, and they'll add you to their guest list!//

Ah, but the guest of honor has arrived!

She hurries over to him as he lists in his chair, expression concerned as she gently tries to straighten him up. "Now, now Sentinel darling, don't worry. You know me at least," she murmurs soothingly in that oh-so-familiar voice. She slides around him and puts her hands on his shoulders, leaning in close to his antennae. "Just a bit of a disguise. You caused us no end of trouble, you did."

"But then, you always do, don't you?" A bitter laugh.

"This is a new arrival. He's a medic of sorts. Thought he might be able to get them to spring you." She doesn't like Oil Slick's presence, but she can certainly work it into her plans. If the good chemist knows what's good for him, he'll play along.

[Oil Slick]

//I have no intentions of getting in your way. I just wish to break his processor, and observe the results. And possibly garner some information out of him...//

Oil Slick's head turns as Sentinel is brought in, making a bit of a face of shocked disgust. //Though it appears their medicines may have beaten me to that punch.//

The cycleformer rises to his feet, moving over behind Blackarachnia with fluid movements, wearing a smirk when Sentinel looks at him. "Yes, provided I find you mentally fit to return to the world of the functioning..." he says in a low tone, optics drooping partially closed. "Of course, to determine this, there must be...tests...performed." As Oil Slick says this, his fingers tent together as a light chuckle leaves him. "Provided the lovely miss will allow me to do so..."

[Sentinel Prime]

The voice. A light in the dark.

No. Darkness in the light. The lights are too bright, and the voice darkens everything it touches.

But it's not her voice, though it should be. Just some ditzy Decepticon dame.

Sentinel Prime observes, "You're Decepticons."

"Oh."

"This will be unpleasant, won't it?"

[Tasha Walker]

She laughs at Sentinel's accusation, straightening and moving around behind him as she does so, her hands never leaving his body.

"Poor, poor thing...you're delusional. Or maybe not so much," she adds in a whisper, scraping the point of a finger along his antennae.

//I saw her, helping the riffraff down on the street. How does it feel to know you will fail her again?//

To Oil Slick she says: //Don't harm him beyond repair. He can't feel guilt if he's overcome by physical pain.//

"It won't be nearly so unpleasant as he thinks, will it Doctor? I'd hate to put him through more pain than is absolutely necessary."

She actually sounds concerned. Just in case someone who cares is monitoring the room.

---

This and subsequent fondling of Sentinel done with permission.

[Oil Slick]

Oil Slick pulls a small case from subspace, pulling out a hypodermic injection gun, poking through his various vials of chemicals. "Decepticons? No, I'm a doctor. Doctor Syd'ny Go'tlyeb."

//I have no intention of causing physical pain, my dear. If that happens, it will be brought upon himself. I just hope his restraints are plenty strong...//

Oil Slick smiles, picking up a small vial of green chemicals, slotting it into the gun. examining it a bit. "Of course not - just a little something to clear your head of those nasty drugs this place has in your system." He smiles at Sentinel as he says this. "After all, I cannot confirm your condition if your head's not clear, can I?"

[Sentinel Prime]

Sentinel Prime pins his antennae back.

He could pull his shield, maybe get out of the bonds, and... yeah right.

But if he just lets them inject him, this is going to get much, much worse.

And he'll get yelled at for troubling the worthless locals.

He recoils from her touch, then juts out his chin defiantly, and there's a lot of it to jut. He tries to appeal to the weird-looking woman, "Do you know what he's going to put in me? For sure? 'cause sugar, he could be lying to you just like he's lying to meeee, and I'm kinda getting the impression that... that..."

He tilts a bit to the side, only held up by the bonds of his chair.

"So I guess what I'm saying here, is - just how much do you trust each other? Because I don't trust either of you."

Sentinel Prime smiles, rather radiantly.

[Tasha Walker]

She laughs. It's a fond laugh, one that almost hearkens back to another time. "Same old Sentinel. Common sense of a post, but still smart when it counted." She cuffs him softly under that ample chin.

//He has a point,// she says to Oil Slick, as she looks over Sentinel's shoulder at the chemist, //because I don't trust you. What's in the vial, plague-bearer?//

Her hands slide down Sentinel's arms to clamp down on his forearms, straightening him in his chair as she does so. She murmurs, "Did you even stop to wonder what if, Sentinel? What if Elita-1 didn't die that day? What if she survived, and you left her there, desperate, abandoned, and lost?"

[Oil Slick]

Oil Slick arches an optic-ridge at Sentinel, then tsks softly. "It's not good form to tell those who are working to free you that you don't trust them..." His voice is soft, but a bit heavy in tone. "Don't look a gift horse, in the mouth, as it's said." Because these horses are hiding nasty bites.

//Hnn. I am... Not exactly lying to him. It will shake off the sedative effects of the drugs already in him, though possibly induce some mild hallucinations and anxiety...// He smirks, chuckling over the channel. //One of those dreadfully unpredictable side-effects.//

While he discusses the vial with Blackarachnia, and while she rambles about the past at the blue mech, Oil Slick continues checking his equipment.

...curious.