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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Mar 31, 2011 14:03:18 GMT -5
"Whatever makes it easier for you to do your work," Emirate Xaaron replies indifferently on the matter of pain sensors. Then he grins. "I'll transform for you when you're done."
He shrugs. "I get into fights. Maybe more than I strictly should, considering my position..." ...but nah, that won't stop him from going out and getting swords stuck in his head.
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Post by Swerve on Apr 2, 2011 9:16:24 GMT -5
Xaaron earns himself a pointedly sour glare at the back of his head; Swerve curses, mostly in Velocitronian, under the breath he doesn't have and shuts off the sensors anyway. He curses right through the offer Xaaron makes of his transformation and on until Xaaron comments again. His glare this time is less annoyed and more baffled.
"Since when do leaders not fight?" he mutters, then stops. Oh, right. The committee. "Never mind," he adds with virulent, remembered hatred backing the words. "I got a good idea." But Xaaron is nothing like those retired showpieces on the committee, a point in his favour even if he's obnoxious and confusing.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 4, 2011 10:36:30 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron actually looks apologetic, and he offers, "I'm trying to learn. It's just slow. Iaconian peacetime leaders weren't much for combat, in my reality. I seem to be the odd man out as far as resistance leaders go, however. I'll get better. I promise."
Why does he feel like he's letting people down for not being an Optimus Prime? It's a silly thought. It doesn't really bother him, but it's there, when he lets his guard down. The thought that he'd serve them better if he wasn't such a liability in combat.
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Post by Swerve on Apr 4, 2011 11:27:05 GMT -5
"I mean," Swerve blurts out, hands going still, "I'm used to Override." And not to you sounding like that. He goes on, awkwardly now as he tries to wrestle something like patience from himself, "back home… the champion is our leader. And the champion has to defend that title. That's… just how it's always been." His hands clench into fists around his tools. "But we did have the committee." And before the urge to punch something as a proxy, he tries a different track. "You," he says sharply to Xaaron, "are just fraggin' lucky you haven't been killed yet. If this plating wasn't so heavy," and he prods an undamaged portion of Xaaron's back for emphasis, "you probably would be." He grows quiet, then adds in a low voice, rough like scoured asphalt, "And then where would we be…?"
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 5, 2011 10:13:58 GMT -5
"I know," Emirate Xaaron says quietly. He counts himself as lucky, that they haven't yet had an Autobot arrive who absolutely refuses to submit to Emirate Xaaron's authority on account that Emirate Xaaron can't grind him (or anyone) into the ground.
"My best defense - and offense, mind you, have always been my words. If my enemies wanted to engage me in reasoned debate, I hazard that I'd come off quite well." Even against Shockwave. Audience participation is hobbled when the speaker doesn't feel what he's saying. Or anything. "That is simply how things were done in Iacon, before the war."
An impish smirk graces his face. "And anyway, my troops have told me they'd rather be lucky than good. I suppose I'm blessed." The smirk falters when Swerve asks where they'd be if he died. "But I... Rodimus Prime would lead you if I fell. I have every faith in him."
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Post by Swerve on Apr 6, 2011 9:44:20 GMT -5
Swerve scowls at his hands. Unlike his patient, he's really bad with the words thing.
"Forget it," he mutters. Swerve is temperamental enough and just cantankerously old enough to get settled into his constants – Override leading Velocitron, Xaaron leading the Autobots – so that the idea of sudden, drastic change outside his control rankles. A champ losing the race or retiring is one thing; the champ getting killed is a completely different wheelbase. And in truth, he almost can't picture anyone else in charge, even Rodimus. He works while he thinks, fans whirring audibly as he scours and trims away the unusable plating, then turns to cleaning soot and fragments from the internals. The bursts of canned air might even tickle.
Eventually, an idea comes to him and he seizes on it.
"In the races," he mumbles, distracted by his work, "we have pace cars, sometimes." He pauses, then clarifies, "On the short tracks and the like." A pace car in a rally would be pretty useless. "Pace cars don't run the race, but they're the most important cars on the track. They keep the racers in check when there's trouble." It's a simplified explanation, to be sure, but Swerve is no word-smith. "You haven't steered us wrong yet," he finishes lamely, then redoubles his work to bury his discomfort.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 6, 2011 10:03:59 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron laughs, just a little, over the canned air. That does tickle.
The he gives Swerve a startled, genuine smile, though he might not see it, depending where he is. To be compared to a pace car is perhaps the sweetest thing that Swerve could say to him! To be compared to a car at all is a nice thing for Swerve to say, since most Velocitronians are cars and Emirate Xaaron is neither a car nor a Velocitronian, but a pace car? That's... wow.
Emirate Xaaron brings up a hand to rub his chin and cover his expression. Sometimes simplicity can also be tact, so he settles on, "Thank you, Swerve."
Swerve wouldn't want Emirate Xaaron to get mushy on him, he doesn't think, and Emirate Xaaron has a reputation to uphold.
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Post by Swerve on Apr 8, 2011 9:24:46 GMT -5
Swerve grumbles an unintelligible acknowledgement of Xaaron's thanks and keeps working, otherwise saying nothing, but his silence this time is more embarrassed than sullen. At his current industrious pace, the cleaning is quickly done with and he sets to repairing whatever internal damages there are to find.
Mushy Xaaron would be weird.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 8, 2011 9:37:47 GMT -5
The internal damages are probably pretty extensive. Missile wound? Multiple bullet wounds? Sonic cricket damage? The fact that he ran around doing stuff while injured has probably torn a few things, too.
Yes, Emirate Xaaron should save his mushiness for grieving over deaths. That's clearly what it was meant for.
He makes conversation, because that is what he does, "How did you fare in the battle?"
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Post by Swerve on Apr 11, 2011 19:46:46 GMT -5
The mess Xaaron has made of himself earns a tired scowl from Swerve. He should probably put Xaaron offline for as long as this will take, both to save Xaaron the tedium and to save himself from having to hold a conversation. He sighs deeply, blasting a gust of dry, hot air from his bonnet and the small vents under his head fins, and fetches up a more suitable tool.
"Scratches." He shrugs even if Xaaron doesn't see it. "Had worse fender benders back home. Bailed Kup out when he got his rickety rustbucket of a chassis caught. S'about it." For several seconds, he says and does nothing, and won't respond even if Xaaron interjects. Do I ask? I could just shut him up and there, no more chatter to worry about. Swerve's optics focus on a random scratch in the wall while he thinks. It's been good and quiet until just now, scrap it all. Good and quiet since he's pretty well had it to himself.
He blows out another sigh and just resumes work. He may not contribute much to the conversation aside from short answers and wordless sounds while he tends Xaaron's wounds, but he doesn't try to stifle the older Autobot, either.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 11, 2011 21:24:02 GMT -5
"You saved Kup? Oh my. That is quite impressive! That'll be a tale to tell to the rookies, I am sure..." Emirate Xaaron muses idly.
He recalls how protective Kup was of Swerve, covering for Swerve's weakness. Perhaps it goes both ways? It's interesting, how quickly (or not quickly) people latch onto those from other realities, who, if they are successful here, may never see again.
"Who had Kup in such peril, do you know?"
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Post by Swerve on Apr 11, 2011 21:32:43 GMT -5
Blatantly uncomfortable with the praise, Swerve just lets his engine noise speak for him at first and seizes on the distraction of finding and picking out bullets. Firebolt gave him plenty of practise.
"Wasn't anything special," he says, gruffly dismissive. "Just happened to run into him and that big, ugly, grease-sucking–" The leg that Bonecrusher nearly ripped off starts to twitching with anxious rage, his heel rapping an irregular beat against the floor. He adds in a low, threatening sort of mutter, "The one from the highway."
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 11, 2011 22:01:48 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron just won't praise Swerve much if Swerve doesn't like it!
He says softly, "Ah. I am curious... what motivated you more, getting revenge on the Decepticon or saving Kup? Or something else entirely?"
Poking at what makes people tick is one of Emirate Xaaron's favourite past-times! And Swerve is yanking bullets out of him, anyway. May as well poke while being poked.
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Post by Swerve on Apr 11, 2011 22:16:30 GMT -5
The temperature in Swerve's immediate vicinity notches up a couple of degrees and his cooling systems work audibly to keep it from climbing any higher. Xaaron's trying to make him think while he's trying to do the exact opposite and leave himself on cruise control for a while.
"I don't know," he says indignantly, practically throwing one impacted round into a nearby tray once he's pulled it out of Xaaron. "I saw the fragger had Kup pinned down and I went in! Didn't exactly stop to decide if it was because I want that walking chunk of dross dead and in pieces on the short belt to the smelter or if it was because I don't want the oldtimer on the scrapheap, okay?" And that he can't decide unsettles him a little; it should be the former. Before Gillanan, it would have been without question. But it isn't not the latter, either.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 11, 2011 22:53:50 GMT -5
Perhaps that is too much poking. Provoking Swerve into a meltdown would be undesirable.
However, Emirate Xaaron is pleased by Swerve's reaction. It's a good thing that Swerve probably can't see Emirate Xaaron's smile. Revenge is an easy thing to seek. Making actual personal bonds with other people is more difficult, but it's a promising sign!
He waves a hand dismissively. Emirate Xaaron is careful to keep any hints of judgement out of his voice when he continues, "I'm not saying you need to be thinking about such things in the heat of the moment, but do you lead an entirely unexamined life? You never look back at where you've been?"
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