Painting Blues

[Skystrike/Skylar Stringers]

Day 3, semi private thread. Ask before joining please!

There was a time when Skystrike had wingmates to help with the issue of repainting. Back then, it was an activity she loathed and avoided until the other two got embarrassed enough with her and wrangled her into the nearest storage room where they would then whine at her about reputation for half an hour before actually beginning with the paint.

There was a time when Skystrike had teammates to help with the issue of repainting. Of course, since they were covered in unmentionable muck for at least half the time, 'repainting' consisted of dusting each other off and then tossing open paint cans at each other and being general hooligans. Repainting was a little more fun then, but it was a wonder how any of them managed to end up with a halfway decent paint job afterward.

Now, though, Skystrike was alone.

It had occurred to her to ask someone for help but the berkut had the bright idea that, maybe, this was an activity that she could very well complete by herself. Standing awkwardly in the middle of the shower room, one side conspicuously unpainted and the rest of her three different shades of smudged blues, Skystrike was beginning to have second thoughts about not having bullied/persuaded someone to help her.

The seeker scowls darkly at the spray paint can in her hand.

[Wreckage]

It is simple necessity that brings Wreckage to the wash; his joints and plating are caked with dust and mud, bits of vegetation, small pebbles and shards of metal, and down one side, a thin coat of his own fluids. All marks of a fine battle, but irritating after a certain length of time.

He has reached his limit, so he shoves open the door to the wash room. Another Decepticon – Skystrike, he assumes by the steep angle of the wings at a quick glance – seems to have had the same idea. No matter; he has no expectations of solitude or privacy in a place like this. At least he knows she understands how to be quiet. Wreckage pays the Seeker little more mind than that, intent on rinsing himself of all the grit and detritus that has left him a stiff, barely mobile, dull grey and beige mass of metal.

[Skystrike/Skylar Stringers]

Momentarily distracted by Wreckage's entrance, Skystrike glances up... and raises a metaphorical brow. Admittedly, it wasn't the most amount of grime she has seen on a person but the very fact that she could barely even see patches of Wreckage's originally pale color scheme through it all was somewhat impressive.

The seeker peers at him with a slightly amused expression as he walks past, half tempted to ask him what happened. She doesn't however, and simply looks back at the paint can she'd been scorning earlier before shrugging to herself and turning to look at Wreckage again.

"I can get your back." Skystrike offers after a moment. Somethings in life just took precedence over painting.

[Wreckage]

Wreckage affords Skystrike a brief sidelong look, incurious and flat. Why is she offering assistance?

"…Hn." No concern of his. "Not necessary." He then turns back to the wall and stares at it for several seconds before simply mashing buttons until he gets a water spray, albeit cold. One thin plate just below his right optic twitches at the blast of unwelcome chill, but he resolutely does not move from his spot.

[Skystrike/Skylar Stringers]

Skystrike looks perfectly nonchalant when Wreckage glances over. She continues to look nonchalant when he turns back to the wall and rejects her offer. Of course, it was nonchalance brimming with amusement and it didn't help when it turns out that the stryker obviously hadn't gotten the hang of the shower units yet.

Thus, nonchalantly, -and with a bit of caution- Skystrike steps forwards and reaches out past Wreckage to press a few buttons to change the water temperature to something more pleasant than sub zero before quietly stepping away. She then flicks a wing and returns to the tricky task of trying to reach the back of her air vents with the paint spray.

[Wreckage]

That interference on Skystrike's part earns another, longer look from Wreckage while the spray gradually bares the original silver and gold of his head. It is not a glare, exactly, nor is it a stunned gape; he keeps his expression carefully neutral. But it is a suspicious, calculating look all the same, the sort of stare he usually fixes on someone when deciding whether or not they are worth killing.

But he does not arbitrarily slay fellow Decepticons. So while he does not draw weapons on the Seeker, he flexes his hands, blade locks creaking. His optics narrow slightly and he shifts his weight as if to ask her why she decided to interfere where she was not welcomed.

[Skystrike/Skylar Stringers]

The creak makes Skystrike’s optics flicker distractedly and she stops to give Wreckage a quizzical look, arm still straining over her shoulder. The expression turns a bit more bemused as she lets the limb drop back to a more comfortable position at her side, the paint can clinking against the side of her thigh.

For a moment, the seeker looks contemplative, wings swinging slowly back and forth to make the paint on them dry faster. Then she just shrugs. Skystrike did it because she just happened to be there and happened to feel like it and it happened to annoy Wreckage. Admittedly though, it probably would have been more amusing to watch him suffer the icy shower now that she thought of it.

[Wreckage]

Wreckage eyes Skystrike for a second or two more before setting the matter aside to be dealth with later. If it still has any bearing once he is clean, he can address it further then. Whether Skystrike wants to or not is of no consequence. For now, however, he leaves her to her own business – painting herself, apparently – and works at picking out the larger rocks and chunks of rehydrated, freshly slimy vegetation, starting with his left arm.

Never is he as appreciative of having hands rather than talons or claws than at times like this.

[Skystrike/Skylar Stringers]

Skystrike watches Wreckage’s back for a moment longer before shaking her head at such a lack of gratitude for introducing him to warm water. It crosses her mind to amp up the temperature just to annoy him more, but her paint was still too wet for any resulting wrestling match that might come afterward. She was pretty sure someone out there wouldn’t appreciate blue paint all over the shower room anyhow.

The seeker does allow a small ghost of a smile at that thought however, before she goes back to painting once more.

[Wreckage]

If Skystrike reaches for the controls again, Wreckage will break her hand.

But for now, he finishes picking both arms clean and moves to his legs. He will not actually be able to clear his back on his own; perhaps he should take her up on that offer after all. At least he can expect her to have no need of reminding him what a favour she does him by lending aid, or needling him about how he would probably wind up in a ditch without her around. Or offer to simply remove one of his arms for him so he can reach his back himself. Bonecrusher never was very imaginative.

As Wreckage rises, mostly white and grey again and ringed by an assortment of woody, leafy bits and rocks scattered on the floor, he looks toward Skystrike.

[Skystrike/Skylar Stringers]

Skystrike was just about to start painting her hand when she distinctly feels optics boring into the back of her head. She half turns to find Wreckage watching her again and returns an inquisitive look. The flier already half suspects what he wants her to do but she rather likes to know she can keep her head before stepping up behind someone.

[Wreckage]

Wreckage makes no further effort to encourage or discourage Skystrike; merely presents his back to her while he starts scraping at the layers of char and blistering on one side. If she wants to make good on her offer, she can. She had simply best leave the controls alone.

[Skystrike/Skylar Stringers]

Fine. Maybe Skystrike won’t fiddle with the controls.

Maybe.

Placing the paint can on the floor Skystrike then straightens and strides over to Wreckage, doing a brief once over of her hands to make sure no stray drop of paint had ended up on them. Then she leans forward to inspect the mess on Wreckage’s back- and wow she hasn’t seen something like this since Lighter decided that going through that abandoned factory waste site was a good idea.

Well, at least swamp stuff wasn’t oily sludge because stars knew how long it’d taken to get the muck out of all the important crevices. Skystrike was pretty sure she still had some somewhere.

Thoughtfully, the jet picks at various pieces of rotting stuff lodged in the stryker’s lower back before nodding to herself and getting to work. Now this was a far more familiar territory than solo painting attempts.

[Wreckage]

It is not surprise that makes Wreckage briefly stiffen when Skystrike's fingers dip into those low crevices and nooks around the machine gun folded into his back. He refuses to think about what it is, but it is not surprise. He simply pushes it aside, out of mind where it belongs. This does not relax him, but the lack of distraction is welcome. Skystrike seems to know what she is doing. Odd, he supposes, for a flier.

She is a strange one all around.

He casts a brief, wary glance over his shoulder when her hands pry too close to the gun again; it may be necessary, but must she poke and pluck so teasingly?

[Skystrike/Skylar Stringers]

If Skystrike were anyone other than Skystrike there would’ve been a smirk of unprecedented proportions on her face. Instead the seeker manages to conjure up a relatively neutral expression with only the mischievous gleam in her optics betraying her current mood as she ever so carefully pries out a few bony twigs.

When her hard work earns yet another glance from Wreckage the expression turns into a perfectly innocuous ‘what did I do?’ look.

And besides, she had to get to work on that gun sometime. Just look at how messy it is!