Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Feb 23, 2009 21:08:03 GMT -5
That contrived innocence does not for an instant fool Wreckage. Thin facial plates and struts shift, narrowing his gaze a fraction of an inch; he makes a low, brief sound, engine rumbling idle. He is not irritated. He refuses to be irritated. He simply dials down the tactile sensors along his back since she apparently feels she needs to be a nuisance.
He does not know her that well, but this seems… bizarre on her part, for what he does know. He would expect behaviour like this from someone such as Barricade before he would have suspected Skystrike of it.
Shows what he knows, supposes the Stryker.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Feb 24, 2009 9:59:58 GMT -5
Skystrike’s lips twitch in stifled amusement at the rumbling. At least Skystrike was being a useful nuisance wasn’t she? That, and she’s spent millions of years with people who came up with new musical numbers nearly every day of their lives. She likes to think she’s allowed to be a nuisance now and then.
There’s a series of ‘clack, clack, clacking’ as the jet successfully pries out a particularly tricky clump of pebbles and lets them drop to the floor. A small pile of debris was building up around their feet as she moves systematically upwards, occasionally unsubspacing a small, thin piece of scrap metal to dislodge things from some of the more tricky crevices.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Feb 24, 2009 22:25:11 GMT -5
That sliver of metal Skystrike is putting to such deft use certainly is… handy. It would also be finding its way into painful nooks if Wreckage could feel it as more than a sporadic nudging and scraping. She is surprisingly efficient at this.
Slowly, once he finishes scouring char from his leg and arm, the swordsman's tension eases. Very slowly. Cable by cable along his back, he relaxes. His optics dim and the uneasy growl of his engine throttles back to a low thrum. She could stab him in the back with that thing; he remains keenly aware of the fact, and so he never quite ceases monitoring her movements, but he does begin to slouch. Just barely.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Feb 25, 2009 10:46:21 GMT -5
If Skystrike wanted to kill or disable him she’d just shoot him, actually. Shoulder guns are simply convenient like that.
Right now she was far more interested in getting Wreckage’s back clean than shooting it, which might be a bit odd but is currently more enjoyable. The fact that she could just about feel Wreckage begin to relax under her hands certainly contributed to the feeling.
Unfortunate that it had to end so soon. Skystrike finishes with the last seam with some reluctance, brushing her thumb over it to clear off the last of the grit.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Feb 26, 2009 14:09:42 GMT -5
With the sensors in Wreckage's back dialled down, that parting caress Skystrike affords him goes unnoticed. He simply registers that she seems to be done prodding and scraping, so he shuts off the water with a measured jab at the controls. He is dripping wet, but save for the blackened bits he could not scour clean, he is in his proper colours again and he can move normally. His expression may give no sign, but she has his gratitude – in spite of her peculiar behaviour – for the assistance.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Feb 28, 2009 7:58:30 GMT -5
Flicking the residual water off her forearm Skystrike takes a few steps back to give Wreckage a once over before making a satisfied thrum. She merely gives a brief nod to the stryker before picking up her discarded paint can and going back to work on the bizarre smears of blue that currently make up her new paint job.
Honestly she wasn’t expecting any sort of gratitude, internal or otherwise. She didn’t clean Wreckage’s back for gratitude after all- it was just a necessary domestic activity with the side benefit of her getting to know every little inch of that lovely pale back.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Mar 2, 2009 12:46:11 GMT -5
For a few seconds, Wreckage remains still, not quite watching Skystrike and not quite moving to leave, either. His gaze eventually, slowly drifts from that indistinct point on the wall to the Seeker, prompted by the hiss and clatter of her work. He simply observes for a while, lacking any immediate motivation to do much else – not out of curiosity or interest. Touching up paint is a dull and tedious chore at best.
Rather like cleaning joints.
Wreckage sometimes thinks himself an artist, of a loose sort, but he is by no means a painter. Skystrike is seemingly not given over all that well to the task, either. Also like Wreckage, she cannot quite reach all of her own back. He tilts his head slightly at his own thoughts in something that is not quite a shrug, optics dimming. He should simply leave her to her own devices. She has managed well enough on her own thus far, after all, and he owes her nothing. Instead, he lumbers across the room, stride deliberate, so he can make a grab for the paint can.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Mar 3, 2009 13:56:05 GMT -5
Skystrike was in the middle of attempting to reach the back of her wingtip when the paint can suddenly decided to switch ownership. Startled, the jet almost whacked Wreckage with said wingtip but stopped halfway and simply eyed him over her shoulder vents for a moment.
Well. This was unexpected.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Mar 5, 2009 22:22:13 GMT -5
Wreckage offers no explanation more than a brief glance. Helping her finish the paint job is ultimately more efficient than leaving her to flail and strain at it herself. Even if he has no real sense for it. He looks from the can in his hand to the still-unpainted spans of metal, considering. He remembers how these wings used to look and makes the first pass on starting to restore them..
Whether or not they will look as they should once he is done with them is another matter.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Mar 7, 2009 6:01:35 GMT -5
Having half expected Wreckage to run off with the paint for whatever reason, it came as a slight surprise to feel the tell tale tingle of paint on bare metal. Skystrike’s optics cycle in a blink and she watches Wreckage warily for a moment.
Then there is a dull series of whirr-clicks as she flexes the various sections of her wings before settling down and letting Wreckage paint her. With an air of slight suspicion, of course, because having someone you don’t entirely trust standing behind you always warranted that.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Mar 9, 2009 1:20:38 GMT -5
They seem to be taking turns unsettling each other. That mostly suits Wreckage.
He applies one uneven swath of paint and watches it somewhat awkwardly for a second before moving on to the next, which is no less flawed in spite of how much he concentrates on the task. Ask him to dismember a prisoner one wire at a time and he can pick apart the lines with pinpoint precision. Put a paint can in his hands and he flounders. At least Skystrike is getting an honest effort from him. Such as it is.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Mar 9, 2009 11:09:02 GMT -5
Considering most of Skystrike’s paint was uneven to begin with, the seeker didn’t actually mind all too much. She’d never been the vain sort and whatever vanity she did have had diminished significantly since her days of hopping about in a white base coat.
Giving Wreckage a sidelong look that could’ve either been amused or annoyed, Skystrike peacefully resigns herself to her inevitable fate. At least she was somewhat the shades of blues she was supposed to be.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Mar 10, 2009 11:55:09 GMT -5
Wreckage, focused to an almost absurd point on his work, does not see that look Skystrike throws his way. He simply keeps painting. Perhaps it is a good thing Skystrike is nearly all this single shade of blue; if Wreckage has to work with more than one colour, she might end up wearing some bizarre camouflage.
Finished with this section, he pauses and makes an indistinct sound. Time to tackle the control surfaces.
"Hold still," he rumbles, order and warning. Fidgeting on her part will only make this messier and more complicated than necessary.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Mar 11, 2009 8:01:40 GMT -5
Skystrike doesn’t fidget. She does eye the paint can while contemplating the pros and cons of letting Wreckage near her the rest of her wing though. In the end the prospect of a free repaint won over once more and the seeker complies, remaining as still as possible.
If Wreckage messes up she could always just bat the paint wet wing at him.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Mar 12, 2009 13:51:32 GMT -5
Shrugging would disrupt the painting, so Wreckage simply blinks, deliberately obtuse, when he catches the way Skystrike watches the paint can as he starts on her wing's control surfaces. Paint sticking up the hinges could be a problem, but pulling out the aileron to do it separately might be a larger issue. He does not dislike this particular Seeker, after all, so purposely injuring her would be a stupid thing to do. It is, however, somewhat tempting simply for convenience's sake. He grabs for her wingtip instead, businesslike and with no pretences of being gentle, to give it a shove and try getting her angled a little more forward so he can better see.
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