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Post by Spinister on Nov 2, 2010 16:11:05 GMT -5
Day 12, Shockwave's office on Ship. Semi-private.
Spinister doesn't face the music after a mission. Instead, his officers face the silence.
Being in a wheelchair and feeling very much like he'd rather pass out for a while does put a crimp in things, however. Spinister stares at Shockwave's office door, unwilling to knock and announce himself.
You should be resting in a berth, and instead, you're contemplating how to break into Shockwave's office, unnoticed, while so uncoordinated that you can't even walk, Hairsplitter scolds.
Yeah.
You are ridiculous[/b], Hairsplitter sulks.
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Post by Victoria Raines on Nov 2, 2010 19:00:09 GMT -5
There is a network of security cameras throughout Ship. These cameras link into a central feed, which Shockwave can access from his office. Most of those security cameras are public knowledge.
Some are not.
For the last short while, Shockwave has been watching as Spinster sat unmoving outside the office door. Eventually, the door to Shockwave's office slides open, seemingly of its own accord.
"Conversations are much easier to have when both people are in the same room, Spinister," Shockwave says, pitching his voice to carry out the door. Except when using radio, but then, some conversations should be face to face.
The cyclops cannot be seen from the door, however.
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Post by Spinister on Nov 2, 2010 19:22:32 GMT -5
You should have expected that would happen, Hairsplitter scolds.
Spinister supposes he should. Wow, he feels dizzy just watching the door slide open. This is terrible. Spinister takes a long moment without moving or even replying, just trying to still himself and make the world stop spinning.
With trembling hands, he reaches down and wheels the chair inside the office. Now where oh where could Shockwave be?
Is conversation what's happening here?
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Post by Victoria Raines on Nov 2, 2010 22:35:42 GMT -5
Shockwave is up near the ceiling, making some adjustments to his chandelier. The wide monitor on the far side of the room is scrolling data, the screen split between two columns of information. It appears to be translating something into a very archaic form of Cybertronian. "Hello Spinister. I trust this visit is to explain why you are in such a state?"
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Post by Spinister on Nov 2, 2010 22:53:36 GMT -5
Spinister cranes his neck up to look at Shockwave's home improvement and immediately regrets it. His head starts spinning and swimming again. Once he has his bearings again, he nods once, and he pulls out a small vial, advising, "Don't let the fluid touch your armour."
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Post by Victoria Raines on Nov 3, 2010 18:17:47 GMT -5
Shockwave floats back down from the ceiling and lands easily next to Spinister.
As he reaches out to take the vial from Spinister, Shockwave observes, "It looks innocent enough, but I know better than to judge chemicals by looks. Are you saying it was this which brought you so low?"
Shockwave nods toward the sitting area, indicating they should move that direction. "I can place you on the couch, if you think it would be more comfortable."
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Post by Spinister on Nov 3, 2010 19:24:14 GMT -5
Spinister thinks that any mission that ends with Spinister on Shockwave's couch is too weird for him. he holds up a hand to wave Shockwave off. No couch, thanks. Argh, how should he start with this whole morass?
With the best salute he can manage, given circumstances, of course.
Then he starts, "I have undertaken the guise of a rookie cop, my lord. Being able to fish my fellows out of the drunk tank seemed useful enough, as does the ability to give Autobots traffic tickets. So of course I was assigned to nursemaid a bounty hunter tasked with tracking down a serial killer." Spinister looks up at Shockwave, willing his last round of medical energon to stay down. "Kup's a bounty hunter now, by the way."
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Post by Victoria Raines on Nov 4, 2010 23:06:27 GMT -5
Shockwave places the vial carefully on a side table, then sits. He balances one ankle on the opposite knee and watches Spinister.
"I trust that our partner is taking care of your medical needs. However, if you need my assistance, please do not hesitate to ask."
"I am not surprised at hearing such of Kup. Mine was always a bit gray ethically, though he leaned more to the rough and tumble than some."
He tilts his head. "I suppose it is too much to hope that he is similarly- or worse- afflicted?"
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Post by Spinister on Nov 5, 2010 10:15:16 GMT -5
Spinister can get by without wasting Shockwave's time.
"Too much," Spinister reports. "There are many loose ends. Too many loose ends. Along the way, a singer was taken. I rescued her from Angels of Entropy and was shot with a Blight bullet," he looks over at the vial, nods once, and explains, "That's medical grade Blight, my lord. Dead, like a vaccine. Used for treating addicts. I was hit with a live strain, weaponised. Much more nasty."
He fidgets a bit, annoyed at his own inability to achieve perfect stillness. "Have to wonder why a sniper was haunting a hospital. Too many snipers in this story." He scowls. "Should only be one."
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Post by Victoria Raines on Nov 5, 2010 19:42:47 GMT -5
One of Shockwave's headfins twitches.
"You have done quite a lot of rescuing for a Decepticon, Spinister." With anyone else, that sentence would come out teasing. From Shockwave, it come out nearly flat.
He waves a hand at the vial. "So it is similar to the way humans use dead versions of disease in their treatments for immunity. Interesting."
"Do go on."
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Post by Spinister on Nov 5, 2010 21:19:19 GMT -5
"There was a job to be done," Spinister replies, as if that explains everything.
He does go on, "A lot of it is probably irrelevant, unique to Pz-Zazz power struggles. That," he nods at the vial, "is not. The drug originated elsewhere, in the Nerada, a race of symbiotes. It is a synthetic form, developed for tac squads, to improve their reflexes and steady their hands. It does that, but it rots the inside out. Attack the soul, even. Addicts with one hit. Seems to favour victims born of the light."
Surely Shockwave can see why this is a big problem for them.
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Post by Victoria Raines on Nov 7, 2010 0:09:10 GMT -5
Shockwave does see the problem.
"This is the only sample you have? Hrm. I will have to split it carefully between myself, Mixmaster, and Oil Slick. The more minds on this, the better, I think."
"Does this mean that we must procure a store of or learn how to replicate it this drug for you before we leave this planet?"
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Post by Spinister on Nov 7, 2010 10:37:38 GMT -5
"Split carefully, my lord, though Needlenose, Oil Slick, and Tarantulas already know something of the usual method of treatment," Spinister explains. See? Spinister already decided that the more Decepticons who know his treatment options, the better. For however brief a time, Spinister and Shockwave are walking down the same mental path, though the path may veer and fork in but an instant.
He continues, "As I understand it, I'll eventually not need it anymore. My body will be well and whole again, but there'll be a scar on my soul, a nagging weakness that even saving to disc and booting back up in a new body can't fix."
For a moment, Spinister's gaze turns purely predatory, though he's not looking at anything in particular, and he muses, "But with a bright enough light, even scars burn off."
The Matrix. The Underbase. Such things could fix Spinister, he is sure. Would he, ever the faithful myrmidon be allowed, to use such things for himself? Allowed? No. Never. But he is a faithful Decepticon, and he'll take them. This is the only warning shot he'll ever give. Spinister won't abide weakness in himself when it could be fixed.
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Post by Victoria Raines on Nov 8, 2010 0:19:15 GMT -5
Shockwave catches that look in Spinister's optics. The gunformer leans forward, elbows on his knees.
"Spinister, if a means to see you free of that affliction comes into our possession, your problem will be dealt with. You are too valuable and trusted an asset to do any less."
"I will speak with the others about your treatments. What else need I know about this encounter?"
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Post by Spinister on Nov 8, 2010 1:01:20 GMT -5
Spinister doesn't let it show, but Shockwave deeply frightens him, a master of fear. Shockwave frightens him with his stability. Shockwave is especially frightening now, when his cold drive for efficiency approximates compassion. Surely, Shockwave feels no such thing. Spinister knows that he is worth much and is worth fixing. Spinister is still unnerved.
He pulls out a badge and explains, "I don't know it means, my lord. I'm sure I'll find out at the most inconvenient time possible, but this is... not limited to Pz-Zazz. It is my hope that it will be more useful than it is not."
Then Spinister admits, "I... can probably serve as a passable engineer. I can pull my weight, my lord."
Spinister really, really hates to admit that, but he if can't fight in the field, he still needs to be useful to the Empire. There is no room for dead weight. If he must suffer shifts in the medical ward to survive, he will.
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