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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Mar 25, 2010 15:05:54 GMT -5
Skystrike cycles her optics before turning to Wreckage with a mildly questioning look and a soft 'Hm?'.
Why? 'Why' concerning the fact that she smelled like Pz-Zazz's industrial district? Or 'why' concerning her continued presence in the room?
The answer to the former was simple and involved being on Pz-Zazz and a momentary lapse in the desire to not smell like fumes.
The latter was... just tad more complicated. Well, simple-complicated. The reason was simple, the actual explanation was complicated and all this thanks to a certain pale mech currently in the room.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Mar 29, 2010 10:14:28 GMT -5
In spite of the stare and the non-answer Skystrike gives him, Wreckage refuses to repeat himself. There is no racket in here to muddle his voice and he spoke clearly; she obviously heard him. He leans back a few degrees, rests his hands on his knees, and he waits, watching her expectantly.
It was a very simple question. The answer cannot be so complicated.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Mar 30, 2010 11:08:17 GMT -5
As no helpful clarification seemed to be forthcoming, Skystrike takes a moment to resettle into a new position. Once that was done, the seeker rests her forearms on her thighs and sweeps a wing back so that she could return the stryker's look.
"More interesting," she answers after a pause.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Apr 1, 2010 11:11:56 GMT -5
Wreckage takes a moment to consider Skystrike's answer, plates above his brow shifting and settling into a pensive look. He cannot fathom what would be less interesting than the rocks. Though, he amends privately, the potential for an arrival adds a little… tension to the watch. So it does make sense. He dips his head almost imperceptibly in a nod, satisfied with the explanation.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Apr 2, 2010 20:17:33 GMT -5
Skystrike watches the subtle shift of emotions across Wreckage's face with feigned disinterest before turning back to the pile of rocks. She had just told the Stryker his presence was interesting and the reaction... was a bit unexpected. Feeling distinctly odd about the current situation, the seeker quietly rests her wing tips against the walls out of nervous habit.
Rock watching hadn't been this complicated before.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Apr 4, 2010 21:04:25 GMT -5
The change in Skystrike's demeanor does not go unnoticed, but Wreckage keeps his peace on the matter, only giving her a curious sidelong look. Surely she is not so concerned with the potentiality of another arrival that it worries her. She is a Seeker. Wreckage is a capable front line warrior. Between the two of them – and the security system, should that become necessary – surely they can handle whatever the universe throws at them.
Or… does Wreckage himself concern her? She never seemed bothered by his presence before; that fact in and of itself has baffled Wreckage more than once. Why, if that is the case, now and none of the prior times they managed to find time without other Decepticons? His gaze unfocuses as he considers this, optics dimming, expression turning blank again.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Apr 6, 2010 14:51:09 GMT -5
If an Autobot army were to pop in at this very moment, Skystrike would have a excellent idea of what to do in mere seconds and she would have a few million years of training and experience to back it up. Stick her in a room with an attractive Stryker on the other hand, and they end up having a communication error after five words.
She notes the distant expression on Wreckage's face with some apprehension before quickly gluing her eyes to the rocks afterwards.
"Answer inadequate?"
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Apr 6, 2010 18:35:05 GMT -5
"No," answers Wreckage, the word more of a rumble low in his chest, near his engine, as he decides to dwell on the matter some other time. Thinking on it now distracts him from his duties. He never cared about the deeper motivations of his fellow Decepticons before; why should it matter now? Why should it matter with Skystrike of all soldiers? Wreckage expels air from his nasal vents in a faint snort at himself. No sooner does he decide to leave the subject be than he goes right back to it. It is distracting.
Skystrike is distracting with the way she has started to fidget, shifting her weight in that unfamiliar, almost skittish fashion. The way she keeps looking at him and away again as if he would not notice. He turns on his seat and looks at her, brow and cheek plates settled into an uncomfortable arrangement. To Skystrike, he may look mystified.
"…I bother you," he states flatly, narrowing his optics – not a question, for he is quite certain of the fact. He does not grasp why the imperturbable Seeker has changed her mind about him.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Apr 8, 2010 17:21:41 GMT -5
Something flickered across Skystrike's face and she stops pretending to stare stonily at the rocks to properly look at Wreckage. Even a stranger to the stoic and silent sorts would have had a difficult time mistaking the expression of surprise for anything else.
"Bother...?" Not quite what she'd been aiming for.
... Reflecting on her current behavior though, it wasn't a very surprising conclusion.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Apr 12, 2010 13:20:26 GMT -5
Wreckage maintains his scrutiny of Skystrike even as he keeps the console – and the rocks beyond – in the periphery of his vision.
"I will not repeat myself," he says stonily. Is she stalling now? What is she planning?
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Apr 13, 2010 15:47:41 GMT -5
"I am not bothered," the seeker shakes her head at the sudden absurdity of the situation, idly wondering how they'd managed to miscommunicate while talking of all things. The nervousness is gone now though, leaving her wings flat against her back once more and a there was a subtle curve on her lips that could have almost been a smile, brief as it was.
Skystrike stands and strides silently over to Wreckage, stopping just short of being uncomfortably close. She then leans down and slowly, tentatively reaches out touch his cheek but stops short, waiting for his objection.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Apr 13, 2010 18:48:47 GMT -5
Uncomfortably close is a wide margin with Wreckage; Skystrike gets more leeway than most Decepticons, but she has proven quite adept at getting rocks and swamp muck out of his back without then stabbing it, so Wreckage makes no move to twist her arm away – or all the way off – when she reaches toward him. He tenses, however, expecting a blow and ready to stop it. A punch or a slap, a rake of the fingertips perhaps.
What he gets instead is… baffling. There are only a few centimetres between her hand and his face; he looks at that hand first as if he has never seen it before, then up at her expectantly. She is beginning to confuse him and that threatens to irritate him. She should not be confusing.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Apr 14, 2010 16:42:47 GMT -5
Having half expected to find her arm on the opposite side of the room, the fact that the limb seemed to be attached and the fingers still hovering over a golden cheek guard came as a bit of a relief.
Limbs, however, could be replaced. Tempting as it was to touch, the seeker keeps her hand still, optics brightening in questioning.
Do I bother you?
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Apr 16, 2010 7:25:32 GMT -5
Skystrike still has neither touched him nor withdrawn her hand and Wreckage has not shifted his gaze. Will she strike him or not? She gives no indication either way, merely watching him curiously. Does she expect him to strike her? To return the bizarre gesture?
She confuses him by making him wonder why she does what she does. Her motivations should not matter; they are none of his business. Yet he ponders them. He sits and wonders, optics dim in speculation, with that hand so close to his face his proximity warnings keep up a shrill rhythm.
And he watches her, still waiting, still expecting her to do something more. His own hands remain still, one on the console, one resting on his leg. He will stop her if she makes herself a threat; gunfire is crude but effective and faster than unlocking his swords. Yet… she has yet to make herself anything more than a pleasant – if strange and sometimes bemusing – companion. It is a puzzlement.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Apr 17, 2010 18:55:50 GMT -5
The pale Stryker seemed to be waiting for her to do something as much as she was waiting for him. She peers intently at his face trying to see if his silence was acceptance or not, but the confusion remained. Was the seeker going to do something horribly wrong? Or was this breach of space going to be tolerated?
It was odd how touch remained the only barrier now. As if all the tension in the room had been compressed into the air between her fingers and his face, conducted through her fingertips and running down her arm like electricity. Skystrike finally gives in and moves to brush her hand lightly over his cheek.
If her hand were to be relocated on short notice, at least she'd get her answer.
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