Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Mar 4, 2010 11:40:15 GMT -5
OOC: Day 7. Open thread for Decepticons still aboard Ship and interested in participating.
Coming upon a planet bears little interest for Wreckage when there is no sure chance of combat. Command wishes to play this landing diplomatically; Wreckage is not diplomatic and he has no care for the apparent attractions to be found on this… Pz-Zazz. Gambling, debauchery, and vice – there was enough of that in the ranks when soldiers grew bored in the doldrums between sieges. He occasionally joined in back then, letting others place the wagers while he sparred with restless fighters like himself, but he will not participate now.
So here he is, having taken every watch shift no-one else wanted, on his way to the rock chamber to stand yet another. It keeps him off that unseemly organic planet; keeps him where it is quiet and tolerable. It is, perhaps, well on the dull side of life, but he will take dull over dealing with crowds of organic things.
"Hn," he sighs, turning a corner, optics on the chamber door.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Mar 7, 2010 19:38:19 GMT -5
Rock watching was about as interesting as Skystrike predicted it would be and she hadn't even been here very long. The prospect of a complete stranger popping into existence made it a bit more exciting than sentry duty, but it was a marginal improvement. Watching rocks was watching rocks after the first few minutes.
The seeker was draped lazily over her seat, wings pressing haphazardly against the wall and hands resting atop her dark cockpit. Optics dim and mouth askew in a lopsided frown, she peers down at her feet in mindless boredom, counting the dinges and scratched that littered the paintwork.
She was actually about to start counting the rocks when the distant sound of footsteps finally, finally invaded the quiet room. Tilting her helm to one side, the blue flier quietly straightens in her chair and casts a sideways look at the door in expectance.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Mar 9, 2010 0:58:50 GMT -5
Wreckage, having no idea who he will be relieving, does not expect to find Skystrike sitting there when the door opens. In a way, he supposes he is not really surprised, either; she is aloof and as given to social activity as Wreckage himself as far as he has seen, so his guess is that she has as much interest in seeing Pz-Zazz as he does. He gives her a shallow nod in acknowledgement as he steps into the room just far enough for the door to shut behind him.
"Reporting for duty," he rumbles. Simply a matter of procedure.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Mar 10, 2010 17:38:43 GMT -5
The look of expectance gives away to a muted expression of surprise when Wreckage walks through the doors. The seeker leans forward so that her wings didn't block half her vision and rumbles a low greeting return, a warm note in her voice.
Her return from Pz-Zazz was met with silence and outside of work-related encounters, seeing another Decepticon had almost become rare. Seeing Wreckage of all people now caught her a bit off guard, although considering the amount of Decepticons on board at the moment, it had probably been inevitable.
She'd been ready to go out for another quiet flight around the ship. The blue flier casts a quick glance between him and the door, idly wondering if a change of plans was in order
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Mar 12, 2010 8:26:51 GMT -5
That unfamiliar cast of incredulity to Skystrike's normally stern face puzzles Wreckage. Is it so odd to see him aboard ship? Does he seem the type to be interested in a den of vice and indulgence like Pz-Zazz? If he does, he must wonder where he gave that impression so he can correct this oversight. Later.
For now, he takes a few more steps forward before he stops again, patiently waiting on Skystrike to vacate so he may take watch. There is no real hurry; the rocks are going nowhere and he is on his post. Her lingering does seem a little odd. Perhaps her joints have stiffened from sitting watch too long? That is the most reasonable explanation, he thinks.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Mar 13, 2010 19:17:26 GMT -5
Well, her joints are somewhat stiffened. Not quite why she's looking contemplatively at him.
Skystrike stands and moves out of Wreckage's way before pausing to warm up her joints. The next shift was far away; the seeker wasn't excited enough about monitor duty to get there quite that early and kick off whoever was on. That just left her with time. A lot of time.
"Quiet day?" She asks, flexing her wings and then ailerons for a good measure.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Mar 15, 2010 11:13:56 GMT -5
"Hn," is Wreckage's only answer as he eases onto the seat. It has been reinforced against his weight and for greater still, but he has sharp, protruding plates and no burning desire to jam them against anything. He sits ramrod straight even after he settles; partly due to construction and partly because he simply does not slump.
Today has been a quiet day, which is a pleasant day for Wreckage. The only thing better is a battlefield. Pz-Zazz is… neither of those things.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Mar 16, 2010 18:06:16 GMT -5
Pz-Zazz was a seething, boiling sea of chaos and activity.
Skystrike had gotten bored in it. It was bright and noisy and about as pleasant as the warnings that popped up in the corner of her vision to tell her she'd lost a leg. It wasn't until she walked out of the entertainment district that she'd found something to do. Although the seeker had ended up with the scent of factories that hadn't gone away with the visit to the washracks.
Things were a bit quieter now.
Humming at Wreckage's reply, the seeker checks the rotation of her wrists. Any other 'Con and Skystrike suspects the conversation would've moved onto guns or generic Decepticon talk by now. It was oddly nicer this way, regardless of the fact that both topic were quite enjoyable.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Mar 17, 2010 10:00:07 GMT -5
After those first moments of stillness and quiet – more than tolerable, given his current company – Wreckage nevertheless turns his stare on the inexplicably not retired Skystrike, expression as flat as ever but his optics bright as if to ask without asking why she still remains in the room. He has assumed duty; she has no more compulsion to stay and flick her wings at him.
Yet here she is.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Mar 17, 2010 15:05:15 GMT -5
Skystrike casts one last glance at the door before shrugging to herself, decision made. Just until the start of the next shift anyways, and there was always time for flying later.
She went to move the other chair before coming to a pause, standing opposite of Wreckage. Tilting her helm slightly in askance, the flier awaited Wreckage's response with a patient look. Did he mind her staying?
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Mar 18, 2010 11:23:47 GMT -5
A slight shift of one shoulder is Wreckage's answer to Skystrike's stare. If she truly enjoys watching the rocks this much, what business is it of his? So long as she avoids obstructing him in his own duties, she poses no problem.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Mar 18, 2010 14:34:55 GMT -5
Sitting on the opposite side of the door would probably make obstructing anything a bit tricky. She couldn't even reach the the pale mech with a wing unless she stood up and did so, and the seeker would do nothing of the sort. If Wreckage should find his duties obstructed, it would surely not be of Skystrike's doing in any manner or form. Surely.
Settling quietly down in her seat and lifting a leg up so that she could rest her chin atop her knee, the seeker flattens wings away from the wall... and watches the rocks. With an added bonus of a stoic Stryker in her peripherals.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Mar 21, 2010 22:31:35 GMT -5
The stillness suits Wreckage and, privately, he enjoys it. Even with Skystrike there, making herself a conspicuous, midnight-hued smear on the periphery of his visual field. A conspicuous… faintly odoriferous smear. He can just detect the stench of fumes and dust and smoke wafting from the Seeker, strong enough for him to smell but too weak to do more than make him aware of it. He peers at her for a moment, then returns his stare to the rocks. If that is any indication of the air quality on Pz-Zazz, it only makes him want to avoid it longer. Walking around with his olfactory sensors shuttered and sealed would be irritating.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Mar 22, 2010 16:24:49 GMT -5
Walking right into a thick smog and spending half an hour in it tended to result in the smog coming back with you. The smell was probably a step up from the rest of Pz-Zazz considering the smog had considerably less organics in it, but Skystrike hadn't exactly been keeping track of stenches during her stay.
Inclining her helm slightly, the seeker notes Wreckage's brief stare and supresses the urge to return it in amusement. Smog and organics aside, the ordeal wasn't entirely horrible. The veiw was nice as long as one stayed on top of buildings and the drinks were... well the drink were odd but usually not terrible.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Mar 24, 2010 13:02:03 GMT -5
As long as none of the organics are dead and rotting, their stench is mostly tolerable. Wreckage still remembers that crushed thing in the mines on Gillanan, and his optics flicker in disgust at the memory of that foulness in his olfactory sensors. Smog is, at least, better than that.
The watch wends on, serene, uneventful. Wreckage never quite manages to tune out Skystrike's presence – something he refuses to let bother him. But ignoring other Decepticons is usually easier than this. After another few long minutes pass, he finally shifts in his seat enough to move one shoulder out of the way so he can look at her more directly. One brow spar quirks a half-inch higher than the other and his optic filaments brighten.
"Why?" he asks simply.
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