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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Mar 23, 2011 11:44:14 GMT -5
Month 1, Week 1, Day 6. Event Horizon, medbay area. Open.
It's Mayday's first scheduled shift in medical, and he is late. Not, like, super late, really! But, well, definitely past fashionably late. He didn't mean to be late, it just sort of happened. Mostly because he repeatedly had to stop himself from chickening out and running back to his room to hide and never come out again. And he's actually here now, right in front of the medbay door but he can't go in and has settled for pacing back-and-forth in the corridor, wringing his hands and making small noises of distress.
Logically, he knows he's being ridiculous. There's nothing in the medbay that can hurt him. The Cosmic Rust is dealt with, and it's not like injuries are contagious, or that he thinks the injured will rise up and attack him like an army of zombies - he almost makes a run for it, but he forces himself to stay put - but that doesn't stop him from being irrationally terrified about entering the medbay.
It doesn't help that he's had over a day to think about it, because anticipation breeds anxiety, and by this point he's worked himself into enough of a tizzy that he's certain that if he walks through that door he will actually die of fright. He knows he won't, because that's ridiculous, and yet he's certain he will.
Stopping, he faces down his his foe and takes one shaky step towards it, then another, and another, then reaches out his hand to palm the door open... then quickly retreats until his back knocks against the opposite wall and he sags into it. Holding the sides of his head, he whines in frustration - partly at having to do this in the first place, but mostly at himself. He doesn't want to, he doesn't want to, he doesn't want to.
Unable to work up the courage to just walk in, he takes the slightly easier route and sends a message to Perceptor. //I, um, I'm h-here for, uh, duty.//
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Post by Perceptor on Mar 23, 2011 12:45:36 GMT -5
Perceptor is hardly one to twit anyone about being late; he barely acknowledges the passage of time, anyway, when he is involved in a project of his.
Today's project, in fact, is completing Spy Shot's repairs, and it is all too easy to lose track of time, and himself, in the intricate process of examining, repairing, and fabricating components for the tiny little mech. Much less in answering all of Spy Shot's myriad of questions.
The tiny camera bot is such a delight to Perceptor, with his boundless curiosity and equally boundless youthful optimism. The challenge of working on such micronized systems is also enjoyable.
"This should have your arm functioning again," he observes as he finishes soldering one last connection. "And then we will run system checks on your sensory input, all right?"
The door opens behind him, but rather than the sound of approaching feet, there is silence, and then a soft thump from the corridor. He frowns and turns to look, but cannot see anything from his vantage. Perhaps a system's malfunction? There are several areas in the ship still in need of repairs, after all, and--
Oh! // Mayday. It's you, // he replies, relieved that there doesn't appear to be a malfunction after all. // You do not need permission to enter. Please, come in. //
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Post by Spy Shot 6/Cameron Otto on Mar 23, 2011 13:35:19 GMT -5
Spy Shot watches intently as Perceptor fixes his arm, thrilled at this opportunity to get to learn about his own insides and how they work. He's never really thought about it much before, even though it seems like it would be a sensible thing to be interested in. Perhaps he will be able to repair himself in the future instead of just relying on his repair systems.
He lifts his arm and swings it in a circle to test it out and nods at Perceptor. "Thank you. All right."
He's much more interested in examining his arm than the open door since he can't get a good look at it from this angle.
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Skyfire
Major
I'm a scientist, not a....
Posts: 891
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Post by Skyfire on Mar 23, 2011 13:56:31 GMT -5
Skyfire is here, sitting over there at that desk, studying manuals on basic repair. He's also got the manual for his own systems up in his internal display, and is studying that as well, relating 'how to repair X' to each of his own internal systems... especially the ones that get damaged frequently.
For him, making it personal is the best way to learn.
The big white shuttleformer glances up at the open and door and notes that it's (a) Mayday, and (b) he's not here carrying a bucket of his own parts, fortunately. Skyfire didn't expect to see anyone in that condition, as all the severely damaged 'Bots had been seen to post-battle over the last several days. However, accidents happened.
---- skippable
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Mar 23, 2011 14:00:54 GMT -5
//Uh, mnh,// Mayday manages, cringing against the wall. Haha, please, come in. He makes it sound so easy. Why can't this be easy? Everyone else seems to have it easy.
He glances through the open door but quickly flinches away and hides his face with his palms. All he can think about is the first - and only - time he visited a hospital, and how terrible he'd felt. He doesn't want to do that again. He's afraid of being afraid. //Hhnyh, I c-can't.//
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Post by Perceptor on Mar 23, 2011 15:33:52 GMT -5
Across the bay, the fabricator gives a buzz-ding, indicating that the part Perceptor had programed in is finished, and he glances up at Skyfire. "That would be your last wing panel. Would you mind terribly retrieving it, and setting the fabricator to the next piece I have programmed for it?" he asks.
// You cannot? Why? // he asks, suddenly finding himself wondering why he is having this conversation over the radio when Mayday is not but just outside the doorway.
"If you will excuse me for a moment, Spy Shot," he asks, and then steps away to head for the corridor.
"Mayday?" What in the name of the laws of thermodynamics? "Mayday, are you all right?" he asks, worried, as he closes the distance to the smaller mech and crouches down beside him, laying a gentle hand upon Mayday's shoulder.
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Post by Spy Shot 6/Cameron Otto on Mar 23, 2011 16:54:35 GMT -5
"Okay," Spy Shot says. He watches Perceptor until he leaves the room before climbing to his feet and scampering off to get a better view of the fabricator. If Skyfire is going to fiddle with it, he wants to watch!
OOC: Skippable.
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Skyfire
Major
I'm a scientist, not a....
Posts: 891
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Post by Skyfire on Mar 23, 2011 17:52:10 GMT -5
Skyfire looks up at the mention of his name. "Hmm? No, I would not mind at all."
He rises and crosses to the fabricator with one long stride, then carefully removes the long, broad wing section, as long as some Autobots are tall, and sets it to one side, in the space cleared for it. He consults Perceptor's notes on the fabricator's log, refills the hoppers with the correct mix of alloys and circuit materials for the next job, and initiates the next job. Working carefully and double-checking the notes, requirements list and so on will take some small amount of time, though he can hear conversations perfectly well.
Or answer Spy Shot's questions.
--- Skippable for the next few rounds unless addressed or he feels like sticking his oar in.
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Mar 23, 2011 19:14:47 GMT -5
Mayday makes a few more miserable noises over radio, then gives an undignified squawk as Perceptor touches his shoulder. Bolting upright, he flinches away from Perceptor's hand and stares at the scientist with wide, panicked optics. Then his anxiety levels drop back down a notch and his gaze drops to the floor.
"I can't do it!" he says. "They say I need to get used to this, but I can't! I don't want to, I can't, I- hnh!" He cuts himself off, because he's rambling and whining like a freshly-molded protoform. He shouldn't be whining to Perceptor. He doesn't even deserve to be talking to Perceptor since he flipped out that time the scientist needed help. He covers his face with his hands again.
Why does he have to make things so hard for himself?
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Post by Perceptor on Mar 23, 2011 20:17:52 GMT -5
Perceptor jerks his hand back in surprise as Mayday flinches as if burned. "They? Who? Get used to what, precisely?"
Perceptor is very worried about the smaller blue mech, but keeps his hands to himself for the moment, even if he does wish to attempt to offer some sign of comfort.
"Mayday? Please, calm down and speak with me. What is it that you cannot do? Let me help you, please."
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Mar 23, 2011 20:57:25 GMT -5
No, no, no, that's not right. Perceptor shouldn't help him, because he failed to help Perceptor when he needed it. Things would be so much easier if people would hate him for things he thought they should hate him for! Then everybody would want him to leave and he could go off in a huff and be alone on his very own shuttle and not have to deal with anxiety-inducing social obligations like this.
Mayday laughs nervously, and drops his arms to cross them over his chest. "Ahaha, maybe I should just go- oh." Right. He can't leave. He's on duty in the medbay. "Ngh."
Looking around everywhere but at Perceptor, he picks idly at the sealing tape wrapped around his upper arm, and finally mumbles, "I can't go in there."
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Post by Perceptor on Mar 23, 2011 21:11:50 GMT -5
Perceptor is not aware of this time which you remember, Mayday. If he ever was, he's long since forgotten it amidst all the other things he fills his processor with. He doesn't recall ever being failed or let down or anything. Sorry. You don't get off that easily.
And perhaps this is as much a punishment for Perceptor as it is for Mayday, because the scientist would just as well prefer to allow Mayday to go his own way, rather than be the cause of further distress for him... except that he recalls, just before he opens his mouth to make exactly that offer, that Kup had informed Perceptor that Mayday would be assisting him in Medical every other day. And Perceptor does not wish to anger Kup again by flouting his will.
Perceptor is going to have to suck it up nearly as much as Mayday, and force himself to be the cause of more distress. He hates it.
With a sigh, he turns and settles to a seat against the wall beside Mayday. "I would allow you to leave if it were possible, but we both know that it is not. I have my orders as well," he replies sadly.
"Why? Tell me what it is that frightens you so?"
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Mar 23, 2011 22:29:06 GMT -5
Mayday flinches at Perceptor's sigh, misinterpreting it as exasperation directed at him. He wouldn't blame Perceptor for feeling that way, because he knows he's being a bother. He wishes he wasn't so much trouble, but he's always been a bit of a... a... a faulty cog. Still, doesn't seem like there's any way he's getting out of this.
Letting out his own little huff of a sigh, he settles next to Perceptor, crouching with his back off the wall and his arms wrapped around his knees. "It... it's like..." He knocks a thumb against his faceplate, gathering his thoughts. Then he just lets it all spill out: "It's like, when I was younger and showing skill as a mechanic, someone decided to recruit me for, nnh, medical training. So they take me to this hospital and there's all these... these injured 'Bots. With missing parts and melted bits and, and... H-hu-hn." He shudders. "And just- just seeing all of that was terrifying. I felt like I was going to die."
He feels ill just thinking about it, a tremor starting up through his body. "And then I just... fainted, and when I woke up, all these people were looking at me." And that had almost been worse than the panic itself.
Wrapping his arms over his head, he tries not to berate himself for rambling on about his past. But... it's kind of a relief to just tell it to someone after bottling it up with every other embarrassing moment he's experienced.
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Post by Perceptor on Mar 23, 2011 23:02:24 GMT -5
Perceptor frowns as he listens to Mayday finally begins to tell his story. "As if mechanical aptitude were all that was required," he grumbles softly, angry at the unknown "someone" of whom Mayday speak.
"I wish, sometimes," he confesses quietly to the smaller mech, "that I could remain sequestered within my laboratory, and never be required to leave. Never be needed to patch an injury or tend an illness. You are not alone, Mayday, and you need never be alone."
He sighs again, and reaches over, hesitantly attempting to rest his hand upon Mayday's shoulder. He isn't certain if the gesture will be as comforting as he intends it, though, and is prepared to retreat again, if it proves to be too distressing.
"What is it that you found the most distressing? The damage? The exposure? The environment? The expectations?" Perhaps some compromise can be found. Maybe.
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Mar 24, 2011 11:33:08 GMT -5
Mayday peeks out from beneath his arms to give Perceptor a sidelong glance. He's not sure why it's so surprising when someone shows signs of actually wanting to help him. It's not like he's never had anyone that cares for him before, but he forgets that sometimes. After all, he spent his youth driving people away and then convincing himself it was their fault, and then what friends he had left he'd abandoned for the emptiness of space. He was so stupid in hindsight.
He flinches slightly when Perceptor touches his shoulder, but doesn't cringe away from him for now, forcing away the part of him that likes to scream about dirt and contagion. He may never have been entirely comfortable with physical contact, but there was a time he could at least tolerate it, in small doses.
Finally he speaks. "It's like... when I see someone who's sick and injured, I can't get it out of my head, and everything is pain and dying and death and it makes me so scared that sometimes I feel like I really am going to die. It's not... it's not usually so bad. Not like that time. Sometimes I don't even faint, depending on how bad what I'm looking at is. But it always makes me feel sick. And I hate feeling like that. I'm afraid to."
He looks away again. "And I'm afraid of people looking at me like that. Like there's something wrong with me." His voice hitches. "And knowing they're right."
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