Spinister-3
Cadet
"I live for the day when no one has to fear."
Posts: 79
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Post by Spinister-3 on Jun 1, 2008 19:28:42 GMT -5
OOC: Late on Day 11, the day of the attack.
Ruination has fallen upon the little tourist town, known best for its zoo, that has housed the Autobots of late. Much of the city is rubble, and there are small fires burning still. Decepticons and dark mirrors yet roam the city.
There is a shadow stalking this city, following the dark Chosen One, but there is also a spirit alighting on the rooftops, summoned from another world. The spirit pauses here and there, skittish and furtive. He is horrified by what he sees, and yet he presses on. The trick is never to lose that wide-opticed horror, never to become jaded and callous, never to wash one's hands in innocent fuel, but to persevere on and never falter or flag.
The spirit hasn't seen a body yet. It's either very good or very bad. It could be very bad indeed. His keen optics discern one, a twisted, melted wreck. The arm alone looks to be intact. The spirit drops down from his rooftop with a decidedly corporeal thump, and he checks over the parts. This was a Junkion, that Pee-Dee. His optics narrow. The damages look consistent with what the boy Prime can put out, and he isn't seeing any of the tell-tale straps of his own Pee-Dee. He pays attention to details that way, he does.
The spirit can't just leave her like this, even if she's dead, and if she isn't, she deserves medical care. Two little ghosts look on nervously as the spirit kneels. However, he isn't going to be stupid about it. First, he withdraws a tidy kit of assorted engineering tools and a few other oddities and rummages through the Junkion. The internal structure is a mess form the damages, and he suspects that it would still be a mess if it wasn't damaged, cracked and warped by heat. He disconnects a few leads to something that he thinks should be the radio, but it's rather hard to say.
Then the spirit tries to fix what looks to be critical and in need of repairs, reeling off lengths of wire and fishing out spare resistors and capacitors from his kit. He pauses, head-tilted to one side. It's about all he can do, and he's still not sure if she's alive or not. He murmurs, accent distinctive, "Rise and shine, beautiful."
OOC: Poking of Pee-Dee done with permission.
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Post by Pee-Dee on Jun 1, 2008 20:35:05 GMT -5
Flicker-spark.
Electricity jumps from component to component as fried connections are replaced.
Flicker-spark.
Resistors tame the lightning, measuring it out to each component. Circuits direct electricity, lines of lightning flashing through metal ruins, waking the sleeping dead.
Flicker-spark.
In the depths of blackened, melted, destroyed metal, the lightning finally strikes home. There is a soft hum as the bare trickle of electricity running into her lasercore transforms into a flood.
Everything spirals out from that. Damage-control computers are brought online. Tensors are powered. Sensor-analysis computers boot to life.
Fingers twitch. Optics brighten slowly.
Pee-Dee stares up at the Decepticon crouching over her, expression shifting jerkily to glare. A lot of the little servo-motors in her face are too burnt out for smooth shifts in expression, and her mouth refuses to change at all.
Her fingers twitch again as she tries to pull her pistol out of subspace. The generator in her arm whines as tries to activate the portal. If a lot of her sensors weren't fried, she would feel part of her arm heating up as she tries to force it to work despite the damage-
It sparks violently, and there's the smell of burning circuits.
"Well, hell."
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Spinister-3
Cadet
"I live for the day when no one has to fear."
Posts: 79
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Post by Spinister-3 on Jun 1, 2008 20:48:37 GMT -5
The spirit wasn't expecting roses and sparkles. The glare is only natural. However, there is a loss of tension in his frame; he is indeed relieved to see her awaken. The spirit is not a medic at all, and Junkions are labyrinthine in complexity. If she had lived and his meagre repairs had pushed her over the other edge, he would have been quite unable to forgive himself.
Even if she was his enemy. Especially if she was his enemy. Letting an enemy die is tantamount to killing the enemy oneself, and there is only one thing for an enemy - a proper trial, where their crimes can be laid bare before the common man and justice may be meted out, imperfect but as good as it gets.
At the scent of burning circuits, the spirit winces. He soothes, "Ma'am, you might not want to try that - whatever that was, exactly - right this moment." The spirit kneels at her side and again reaches for his toolkit, fishing for another handful of circuits. "If it's not too much trouble, just what happened here? There's the pyre, there's the pyros, but where are the people?"
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Post by Pee-Dee on Jun 1, 2008 21:02:27 GMT -5
Well, this is... Really not what she expects from a Decepticon. Her expression jerkily shifts to reflect that puzzlement and disbelief.
Her fist clenches as he probes her arm with his tools. As he fails to do anything untoward, she relaxes, even humming briefly in the simple, sensuous pleasure of someone else fixing bits of her that are broken.
There are little bitty Transformers around, she notices. Keeping watch. Were those bits of gun-kibble?
"Are you Needlenose or Spinister?" She asks instead of answering his question. "And are you from around here?"
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Spinister-3
Cadet
"I live for the day when no one has to fear."
Posts: 79
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Post by Spinister-3 on Jun 1, 2008 21:30:00 GMT -5
The spirit continues to try to effect repairs, but he pauses, optics narrowed in confusion, and he asks, "That line. Is it really supposed to hook up with your fuel pump regulator? If you know, of course. I mean, the wear indicates that it used to, but it strikes me as a really strange lay-out, nothing wrong about being strange, of course. It's just strange from my perspective, anyway. Maybe it's normal."
One of the Nebulans briefly turns and waves in a friendly fashion. The other seems a bit shy and continues to stand watch.
The spirit answers, "I'm Spinister, ma'am. I'm not exactly from these parts, but none of us are, when you get right down to it, but the real question is - do you come here often?" He turns a level light cyan gaze on her, holding it for a moment before turning to pluck out a wirestripper from his kit.
Spinister needs to know if he'll be getting out his cuffs or not. He might still get out the cuffs later, but he doesn't think that the setting is quite proper now.
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Post by Pee-Dee on Jun 1, 2008 21:42:45 GMT -5
"Oh, yes! How else am I supposed to reroute fuel on the fly?" She cranes her head to peek at what he's doing, wriggling a bit against the ground.
"Do I come here often? Well, if 'here' is 'half-destroyed and under a Decepticon's ministrating hands', then no, I don't really come here often." Not that she's really objecting to it very strongly.
Spinister, who keeps calling her "ma'am", hasn't really given her a useful answer to her question yet. "See, I think I can make a guess at what you're asking, and I think you can make a guess at what I'm asking, and I'm in sufficiently bad shape that I can't really do much if you're not on the level with me. So why don't we play this straight? Did you come through the Looking Glass?"
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Spinister-3
Cadet
"I live for the day when no one has to fear."
Posts: 79
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Post by Spinister-3 on Jun 1, 2008 21:58:05 GMT -5
"Duly noted," Spinister replies, and he does indeed reattach that line. "Got good somatic control over autonomic functions, huh? Must be handy."
Spinister rambles a bit. She may be noticing that by now. He just has the self-control to not ramble about anything of terribly important relevance.
He briefly reaches back, placing a grease and soot-stained hand on his hip, and he points out, "Or you could be playing up your injuries, trying to lure me into a false sense of security. That said, ma'am, I really am out of this world." The glint in his optics turns mischievous for a moment.
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Post by Pee-Dee on Jun 1, 2008 22:05:37 GMT -5
"I have an arm and a head." Pee-Dee shakes a finger at Spinister. "It's impossible to 'play up' injuries of this level."
"You're all babble-y," she adds. "Like Bluestreak. And just as difficult to get a useful answer out of."
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Spinister-3
Cadet
"I live for the day when no one has to fear."
Posts: 79
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Post by Spinister-3 on Jun 1, 2008 22:14:52 GMT -5
"I've seen more done with less," Spinister mutters. Hmm. Does Pee-Dee needs a blinking strip of LEDs inside her forearm? He thinks she does. For totally technical reasons!
Spinister's voice turns a bit more serious and flat, and he replies, "Ma'am, I gave you a useful answer. Do I have to spell it out for you in neon lights?" Or LEDs, as the case may be. "I'm from the other side of the Looking Glass or however you'd like to phrase it with those pretty little lips."
He is (gently, jestingly) getting on a Junkion's case for not understanding metaphors. Wow. He really must be from an alternate universe!
"Now. Are you the one that actually lives here, or are you mine?"
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Post by Pee-Dee on Jun 1, 2008 22:32:12 GMT -5
Pee-Dee can likely do a number on him if she feels the need to, but letting him repair her is much nicer for both of them. "'Out of this world' can just as easily get back to 'none of us being from around here, when you get right down to it'," she replies sulkily.
Her mouth twitches at the 'pretty little lips', one side almost curving up into a smirk. "Been a while. Yeah, this is my new post since I got reassigned."
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Spinister-3
Cadet
"I live for the day when no one has to fear."
Posts: 79
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Post by Spinister-3 on Jun 1, 2008 22:44:06 GMT -5
If the number is her personal radio frequency, Spinister wouldn't argue. Otherwise... those two Nebulans can be in his hands quite quickly, and tools that can mend can disable just as easily.
"Nuh-uh," Spinister insists. "This world. Out of it. Clear as the violet sky, as the rain falling down. Reassigned?" He chuckles warmly. "That's sure one way of putting it. Look, I had to make sure if you were dead or not, and since you aren't, I have a duty to make sure you stay that way. I'd love to hand you off to a real medic, this is just a hobby of mine, really, not surgical grade at all," he's too modest, if only on this one topic, "but er... see my earlier question. Any clue where the rest of your Autobots have gone? Haven't seen anyone, just my sort of Autobot and mirrors."
He hasn't seen his own. He's a bit nervous about that, to be honest.
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Post by Pee-Dee on Jun 1, 2008 22:57:49 GMT -5
"Uh-huh! Clear as mud," she insists right back at him. "Clear as oil spilled in water. You have to take in context what was said before, you can't speak in isolation."
But speaking of the rest of her Autobots, Pee-Dee tries to radio the first person that comes to mind: Nightbeat. But her radio just laughs at her as she fails to make any connection to that part. "Pooh. That mech I'm going to maim fried my radio."
She blinks her optics guilelessly at him. "Oh, we were retreating when I got hurt. I don't really know where they've gotten off to."
And I'm not going to tell you until I'm sure you're not a lying liar who lies.
It's entirely unfair that the mirrors don't have goatees or something.
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Spinister-3
Cadet
"I live for the day when no one has to fear."
Posts: 79
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Post by Spinister-3 on Jun 2, 2008 8:45:46 GMT -5
"Clear as oil in water? Jet fuel's clear, baby," Spinister notes absently, innocently. He, of course, is a helicopter.
Yeah, about her radio... maybe that's one thing he won't mention.
A goatee or a chin-strap paint application would absolutely ruin the sterling lines of his jaw. Who would dare break up that immaculate cyan? No, clearly, it's his alternate who ought to have goatee or perhaps he ought to carry around a mug of coffee and book of emo poetry.
Spinister observes, "Look, you don't trust me, and rightfully so, but all the same, I don't trust you. Believe it or not, I do have better things to be doing here than playing first aid to little lost girls. Since you've seen my face, that puts me in a bit of a quandary. Either I take you with me - because I certainly can't leave a purported innocent in a zone crawling with unfriendlies, or," he pauses, "well, I can't leave you with yours, because you don't know where they are." Don't know, his skidplate. More like she doesn't want him to know, and he can't blame her. "Guess it's not really a choice."
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Post by Pee-Dee on Jun 2, 2008 11:22:39 GMT -5
"Jet fuel's not oil, either." Pee-Dee grins in pleasure at her clearly decisive victory in the argument.
No, breaking up that lovely cyan would be a crime. Some things just can't be pulled off well by certain people.
"Well.... The usual way to decide if the other person is trustworthy is to go on an adventure with them and watch the way they behave when it gets down to the wire." 'Course, that can go wrong on occasion, but it's got a higher success rate than forcing someone to race their alternate. "Now, you say you're not one of my Decepticons, and I say I'm not one of your Autobots, so we should go screw both of those parties over."
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Spinister-3
Cadet
"I live for the day when no one has to fear."
Posts: 79
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Post by Spinister-3 on Jun 2, 2008 12:17:24 GMT -5
He points out, "Yeah, but who is mixing oil and water? You'd get a colloid. It could be translucent due to the Tyndall effect."
There is no one in either universe who can pull off Spinister's colour scheme, but it sure doesn't stop this Spinister from trying.
He nods along at her suggestion, seemingly unperturbed by its logic or lack thereof. Spinister rubs his chin and muses, "Ma'am, you're not in the world's best shape for adventuring, but we're not going to find parts for you here, and there's not enough left of you that's usable, unless you know the better. There is, however, a junkyard in the vicinity of these Decepticons' base, if you think we'd be able to find parts there." How does he know this? Because he knows these things. And because he went through his Autobots' portal, which is relatively near these Decepticons' base.
Spinister explains, "See, my Autobots took my Thundercracker and my Hook, and I'd rather like to get them back." He's frustrated that he hasn't been able to do so yet. Kidnappings are ugly. "I kind of doubt that they'd bring them along with them to a fight, so I'm guessing they're back at your Decepticon base, if they're even in this reality and not hidden somewhere in mine. Follow?"
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