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Post by Mirage on Jul 1, 2010 11:59:44 GMT -5
Day 10, after Passing the Disk. Open, but takes place in quarters, not a public area.
By the time Mirage reaches his room he is practically stalking, though the motion is still graceful, like that of a great cat. He continues into quarters and practically throws himself down on his berth, one arm behind his head has he stares up at the ceiling. He doesn't particularly care if Mayday is in the room or not, but if the germaphobe is and dares to start up about cleaners again, Mirage just might turn violent.
The spy's fists clench, his optic shutter sliding closed as he mentally reviews the exchange with Xaaron. What happened there? They were perfectly amiable and then suddenly it was like each had tossed a vial of acid at the other. Is Mirage really so flawed that he can't manage simple conversation with someone when he's not courting or trying to persuade them?
Oh wait, he was courting Rodimus and still manged to upset him. And Skyblast too, come to think of it. And Rattrap had certainly been on his way to Xaaron's office- for him ambling that way so soon was entirely too much of a coincidence. The rat and racer were almost as volatile a combination as Mirage and Nightbeat and...
"Damnit!" he snarls, slamming his fist over and into the wall- and possibly startling anyone who might already be in the room.
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Post by Lynn Deanna Payne on Jul 1, 2010 16:13:51 GMT -5
Bambi has her room assignment, Room 10, in one hand, a bucket full of dirty pot sherds in the other, and dust and mud all over. She's also in dinosaur mode, and her tail is wagging pretty happily. (Her tail is not nearly as stiff as it should be for a) palaeontological correctness or b) for it to even make sense being made out of metal. Ah, the foibles of being a cartoon character.) The scent of smoke also clings to her, and she looks a bit scorched in places.
She sniffs along the hallways as she stalks past the rooms, particularly sniffing at the keypads and trying to match the scents to the faces she's seen. A lot of the smells aren't placed yet, but a fair amount of them are.
Bambi hears Mirage before she sees him, him being behind a door and all, and his curse barely has time to register in her processors before the reek of a bunch of cleaning products beats her over the head with a sledgehammer. A little dizzily, Bambi sets down the bucket on the floor and leans against the door of the room and reaches up to woozily hit in the access code on the door lock.
Oh shards, the smell is even worse in here. It's like someone combined all those cleaning products that you're not supposed to combine. Is that mustard gas she smells? Why would you even...
The light blue slit pupils in her optics roll up into her head, and Bambi falls over on the door jamb. This is ludicrously embarrassing, and as soon as she can stand the smell enough to get up, she's... she's... going to figure that out later when her olfactory sensors aren't murdering her.
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Jul 3, 2010 10:31:16 GMT -5
It never fails. You get settled down to sort and clean your newest batch of parts and work on shuttle designs and somebody comes shatters the peace!
...Okay, so maybe that doesn't happen that often. It doesn't stop Mayday from giving Mirage a disgruntled look as the spy stalks in and flops down on his berth. He twitches slightly with the urge to question Mirage about his hygiene, but he seems to be in a bad mood and Mayday would prefer for that bad mood to stay directed away from him. He'll just sterilize Mirage's berth whenever the spy leaves.
Making a few quiet noises of annoyance to himself, Mayday returns to his work. He sits curled up on his own berth, having turned it into an impromptu workplace. To the right of the berth is a stack of containers full of unsorted and unsterilized parts. Laid out in front of the berth is a row of neatly labeled containers for him to sort the parts into. Propped up to his left is a large data pad that he occasionally makes a note or quick design sketch on. Finally, scattered around him are a number of cleaning products and implements, which his is currently using to clean off a complicated bit of machinery.
When Mirage suddenly curses and slams a fist into the wall, Mayday can't stop himself from squealing in surprise, his grip loosening on the component in his hands. He fumbles with the bit of machinery for a moment, trying to regain his hold on it, but it inevitably drops out of his hands, bounces off the edge of his berth, and clatters into one of the sorted boxes.
Mayday stares. That part. Was not fully clean. The parts in the box were. He is going to have to do the entire box over again.
"Guh- Y- Fgh. Hrgh!" He graduates to making small twitchy flailing motions with his hands and producing a sound not unlike air slowly escaping from a tire.
Then the door opens and something horribly dusty topples into the room and Mayday has something completely different to worry about. Almost instantly he's pressed tightly against the wall at the farthest corner of his berth from the door.
"What is that?!" he shrieks in an embarrassingly high pitch. Panic first, try to make sense of what you're saying later.
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Post by Mirage on Jul 3, 2010 12:37:20 GMT -5
Mirage pays no mind to Mayday's keening. In fact, the spy might be smirking a bit in cruel satisfaction from having distressed the clean freak.
Bambi swooning into the doorway, however, the spy can't allow himself to ignore. Especially not after making his case to Xaaron about allowing Mirage to cultivate the girl's abilities.
"Bambi!" Mirage is off the berth and over to the little Dinobot in one smooth motion. There's a moment's hesitation before he bundles her in all her dirty glory up against his clean blue and white plating. Ugh. He's going to have to go shower. But...later. Right now...
"Dear, whatever is the matter? You look positively ill!" Mirage fusses as he carries her over to his berth. The cleaning smell shouldn't be as bad here, as Mirage made a point of claiming the berth nearest the ventilation. He can't really judge though, as he's also made a habit of dialing down his olfactory sensors before coming into quarters.
He spies the room assignment in her hand, quirks a brow and asks, "Have they actually assigned you to room with us, then?"
OOC: fussing over Bambi done with player permission
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Post by Lynn Deanna Payne on Jul 3, 2010 16:09:27 GMT -5
Bambi twitches in pain when Mayday shrieks. Right, she needed her robotic tympanic membranes equivalents split, too.
Deciding there's nothing for it, Bambi takes a moment to go into her settings panel and turns off her olfactory sensors. There's still a ringing headache from that high pitched shriek, there's a fading ache in her olfactory sensors, and she feels like she just put on a blindfold, but her head is at least reasonably clear now.
Looking deeply embarrassed, Bambi sets down the room assignment and ratchets into robot mode, self-conscious. Her robot mode is also muddy, dirty, and scorched. Scowling and holding her hand over her nose, even though she can't smell anything at all right now, Bambi answers in a faintly snooty and derisive tone, "That is robotic Bambiraptor feinbergi, scaled up to Utahraptor ostrommaysorum size, though gracile construction, hand anatomy, and cranial case size and geometry indicate correct identification be Bambiraptor feinbergi."
More details also, yadda, but she's not going to get into that. In a hot, arch tone, she adds, "Or you mean bucket? That contain Atavist period monochrome amphora shards, sourced from Talon Mountain village site. So, what that?" She points a taloned finger over at Mayday and his box of stuff.
As nice as Mirage is to pick her up and check on her, she can't help but feel like she's making herself look like an idiot, half-passing out on the door jamb. She looks over at her room assignment ticket and then looks over at Mirage a bit helplessly and settles on shrugging, replying flippantly, "Room needed break from white and blue."
Also all the 'M's, but she doesn't know that.
"Gnn, me Bambi told you Mirage me have good sense of smell, and it smell horrible in here. Want vent whole thing to hard vacuum for while and not sure would even help!"
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Jul 4, 2010 22:04:37 GMT -5
Realizing that the creature falling into one's room is actually one of your comrades-in-arms and not some sort of monster or something should really calm a person down. However, this is Mayday, and he was already on edge, and Bambi is still very, very dirty and carrying a very dirty bucket and is getting dirt all over his beautiful-safe-clean room. So it really, really doesn't.
The only response Bambi gets to her question is something along the lines of: "Hggfh. Nhgh. Hnngh."
He hasn't really registered a word she's said, to be quite honest. Or a word Mirage has said, either. In fact, he hasn't even moved an inch since he recoiled against the wall. This is one thoroughly locked-up Mayday. If you listen carefully, he's stopped making distinct noises and started producing a steady, nearly-inaudible drone.
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Post by Mirage on Jul 4, 2010 22:42:15 GMT -5
In a very long-suffering tone Mirage says, indicating the cringing Autobot across the way, "That is Mayday, our other roommate. He's a bit of a clean freak. I do believe your current state of dishevelment has him quite at a loss."
A pause, and then Mirage adds, "He's from your reality, if I recall correctly."
Mirage settles himself on the berth next to Bambi, back against the wall, one leg drawn up to his chest. He smiles down at the Dinobot.
Mirage continues to make small talk about Mayday as if he isn't in the room.
"Ah yes, I make a habit of turning down my own olfactory sensors before coming to rest. I've determined he must have been created without them, himself."
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Post by Lynn Deanna Payne on Jul 5, 2010 10:51:23 GMT -5
Bambi stares at Mayday, and her feet move up and down a bit - if she was in dinosaur mode, her killer claws would be slowly, deliberately flexing up and down, and she hisses out, "Weak. Pathetic. At least me turn off olfactory sensors and get on. You Mayday get locked up over dirt?" if Mirage is correct, "You Mayday never survive, if things get tough. Turn off visual sensors if dirt bug you Mayday so bad."
She crosses her arms, lip curled in disgust, and she grumbles, "Why me Bambi's reality full of defective Autobots?"
Why couldn't she come from the dimension of awesome super spies?
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Jul 6, 2010 19:37:10 GMT -5
Mayday might as well not be in the room, for all that he's registering the world around him right now. "-eeeeeeee-hck." A twitch. Something Bambi said has broken through his temporary lock-up. One of his optics spasms, then suddenly he bursts into motion, surging away from the wall and flailing his arms dramatically.
"Survive? Survive? We'll see who survives when some poor cog steps in the wrong puddle and ends up with a foot full of Jh'jh'jk spores and doesn't clean thoroughly because it's juuuust dirt and next thing you know he's swarming with nanoscopic parasites, spreading them over everything he touches, and then they make his way into his fuel lines and start feeding and reproducing and feeding and reproducing until he's dry and energyless and every line is clogged with tiny, wriggling bodies, and then they're in everybody else and they all succumb to growing fatigue and hunger that they can't sate and- and- And."
He stops flailing and just stares blankly at Mirage and Bambi for a moment. Then he sheepishly averts his gaze and scratches at the port in the back of his helm. "Uh... what were we talking about again?"
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Post by Mirage on Jul 7, 2010 13:02:08 GMT -5
Mirage sighs and cradles his head in his hand as Mayday flails. The spy has gotten mostly used his roommate's quirks- well, he's gotten used to ignoring them, at least. But Bambi's presence seems to have set the skittish mech off the deep end again.
"Mayday! For Primus's sake, can you at least make an attempt to not be so terribly rude?" Mirage says sharply, "If the environment was really as fraught with perils as you believe, we wouldn't be at war. Everyone would be dead from some disease or disorder."
He then quirks an apologetic smile at Bambi. "Though...you are in a bit of a state. I could give you directions to the washrooms, so you could clean up before you rest, if you like?"
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Post by Lynn Deanna Payne on Jul 7, 2010 14:32:11 GMT -5
Bambi glares at Mayday stonily and replies hotly, "If me come down with parasites, me binge on gin and quinine, like best explorers do, and if that no work, me just catch on fire and burn parasites out. Anyway, you Mayday never gonna build up robot immune system like that. Bet you Mayday come down with robot allergies if you no careful." She sniffs with more disdain. Bambi is of the school of thought that it is healthy for people to get out in the dirt.
Bambi looks up at Mirage, optics narrowed, and she sighs, "Fiiiiine, me go have carwash," which was how she cleaned off back home, aside from just dunking herself in a pond or river. "But only 'cos you Mirage ask. Me just gonna get dirty again, cleaning off pot sherds, anyway."
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Jul 8, 2010 14:19:06 GMT -5
Mayday frowns deeply at Mirage, feeling embarrassed. He doesn't mean to get all worked up about things, it just happens. "I- that- nnh- hrng-"
Finally he throws his hands up in the air. "No! No, I can't! Not when people can't be polite enough to at least rinse themselves off before coming into someone's nice, clean room."
He crosses his arms with a huff, glaring defensively at the both of them and pouting a little. For a being that never had a childhood, he can be rather childish. "And I wouldn't need to build up a- a robot immune system if people could bother to maintain a decent level of hygiene!"
His optics gradually drift away from his pair of roommates to stare at the dirt Bambi has introduced to the room. His fingers begin to twitch with the deep-seated urge to clean.
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Post by Mirage on Jul 9, 2010 19:22:39 GMT -5
Mirage chuckles at Bambi's grudging agreement to bathe. He pats her lightly on the head- then raises a browridge and flicks some dir of his hand and onto the wall. "We have a shower system much better than a mere carwash, dear. After all, not all of us are cars."
He shrugs then, "If you want to finish your sorting first, then by all means do so. But I thought perhaps you came to the room to rest after your exertions, and I know I abhor laying down when filthy."
Mirage turns a puzzled- an annoyed- look on Mayday, "You know, I've never been ill a day in my life, and all I do is make sure my firewalls are the most current out there. And I certainly have spent enough time in less-than-hygienic conditions; the sewers of Kaon were exceptionally putrid."
"You really might want to consider professional help.
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Post by Lynn Deanna Payne on Jul 9, 2010 19:43:00 GMT -5
"Better to be strong and withstand than be cringing, weak and go hide, 'cos sometimes, you no can hide," Bambi snaps, and... then she thinks about her words. Yeah, she can't just go hide, can she? This war will find her, wherever she may go.
She makes a face when Mirage extolls the virtues of their cleaning system, and she concedes, "Me Bambi think it safer go get in turf war with triceratops than work on work here. So me need go," pick fight with top scientist and determine rank standing in pack, "negotiate space in workshop."
Bambi rises into a crouch, preparing to spring down to the floor.
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Jul 11, 2010 22:05:55 GMT -5
Giving into his cleaning urges, Mayday drops to his knees on his berth and leans far over the edge to dig around underneath it, pushing his boxes of components aside.
He looks up briefly to give Bambi a grumpy look. "I'm not-! Well, you-! Mrk." Okay, fine. He's weak and cringing. He can't really deny it. He's not exactly proud of it, but... He mumbles, "We can't all be strong..."
Finishing his search under the berth, he sits upright clutching a device that looks rather like a gun. Or more specifically, to anyone who might have encountered on Earth, like an enlarged and especially high-tech super-soaker. He snorts at Mirage, and mutters quietly, almost to himself: "Just because you haven't doesn't mean you wo-"
His optic twitches at Mirage mentions seeing a professional. "Oh, haha! Like I've never heard that before! Last thing I need is some professional messing around with what's in my head, changing things about, shaping me into a perfect little cog..."
He trails off, then shakes his head to clear it, hefting his squirt gun. "Okay anything still dirty in this room after a count to thirty is getting sprayed down with detergent."
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