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Post by Drift on Apr 12, 2011 15:24:56 GMT -5
Drift gives an involuntary sigh as the lubricant seeps into the joints of his hand and a few of the yellow indicators drop off his monitoring system. Stupid lights. Everyone knows yellow is the color for cowards.
He gives an uncomfortable squirm. Yeah, about that.... "No one," he says, voice flat. "Been on my own since I left." And the Wreckers didn't trust him, and he didn't trust them...not that much. Not that they were gooshy about maintenance themselves.
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Post by Perceptor on Apr 12, 2011 15:51:31 GMT -5
How did Perceptor guess? Oh, yes. That's right. He has a few metaprocessors online and functioning. He does, however, manage to stifle any of the ironic sounds of agreement that pop up in his vocal queue, though that is almost harder than facing that dire Decepticon glare had been but not many moments ago.
"So the only repairs you have had since your rebuild, then," he asks as he begins working the lubricant into Drift's other hand, "are the temporary patches I placed during the attack?" He is even good and makes sure to put no emphasis on the "temporary" part of that comment. Of course, his idea of "temporary" is probably more than good enough for most other repair techs' "permanent". Not being a real medic tends to encourage Perceptor to overcompensate.
"Before you leave, I would like to examine the state of those patches," he adds, keeping his tone light and nonchalant. "Your self-repair systems are extraordinary, however, I would feel more comfortable if I could be certain that everything is healing efficiently."
"How is that?" he asks, releasing Drift's hand, only then glancing up to meet the swordsmech's gaze. "Range of motion and fluidity of movement, please?"
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Post by Drift on Apr 12, 2011 16:40:39 GMT -5
Drift blithely doesn't hear any sort of hinty hint hint there. He feels, in fact, blissfully unjudged. "Yeah. Not a lot of downtime." Or, you know, trust.
You are supposed to be impressed with his fortitude, Perceptor.
"I'm fi--," No. Shut up. You...probably...maybe....could...kind of...use an overhaul. But.
Oh this was stupid. It would be the first time his armor had been opened since New Crystal City. It felt like some kind of betrayal. Some of the dirt and grime Perceptor was washing away, some of the dents on his hands, his armor, were from...that battle.
He looks away, staring hard at the far wall. "Yeah, fine. Whatever." Perceptor probably has no idea how much even that grudging assent costs him.
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Post by Perceptor on Apr 12, 2011 17:21:46 GMT -5
Perceptor is impressed with his fortitude. Perhaps not his stubbornness, but certainly his fortitude.
"I imagine not," Perceptor agrees, turning to replace the micro sprayer. "I cannot envision being so... self-reliant for so long." Isolated. Alone. He shudders faintly, remembering those first weeks after Unicron's defeat, as the silence in the ruins of his shared facilities on Earth had crept in around him with the press of phantoms and shadowed ghosts.
"I do not think that I could live thusly," he adds softly, something like wistful respect in his voice... and perhaps, just a little regret that Drift is so alone. He doesn't wish to start that argument again, though, and so gives a little cough as he turns back to motion toward the patches applied to the bite wounds on Drift's throat.
"I wished to thank you."
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Post by Drift on Apr 12, 2011 17:39:41 GMT -5
He doesn't know what to do with his hands, so he folds them together, awkwardly, in front of him.
"Worse things than being alone," Drift says. Like, you know, watching someone you care about getting killed in front of you? Like realizing your entire existence all the good you thought you were doing was...wrong? Yeah. Alone's pretty good compared to that. Least no one else getting sucked into the backblast of your sins.
He twitches as Perceptor leans in, intent on the repairs on his throat. If he hadn't been half-delirious from fluid-loss the first time, Perceptor would have had a damn hard time patching it in the first place. He gives another annoyed growl--at himself, at the situation--before tilting his head to the other side, exposing his neck. His hands clutch over his twin blade hilts.
"...for what?"
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Post by Perceptor on Apr 12, 2011 18:15:20 GMT -5
There isn't much Perceptor can say to that that isn't some stupid platitude or sophistry, and so he merely nods and offers a small smile of thanks as Drift tilts his head obligingly. His fingertips are soft and careful as they probe at the patch, checking the edges for adhesion, checking the surrounding area for contamination or corrosion.
"Saving my life. Sentinel's life. Mirage's life," he replies quietly, reaching back absently to fetch another cloth and the solvent to clean away a patch of dried energon that had seeped from one tiny imperfection along one edge. "Elita told me that Mirage would have been deactivated without your intervention. And that you faced Barricade alone."
That's definitely respect in Perceptor's voice there; the psychotic Decepticon was known to be particularly vicious.
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Post by Drift on Apr 12, 2011 19:22:45 GMT -5
If Perceptor's hands are sensitive, he might feel a soft vibration under his fingers as he works--an entirely involuntary hum of pleasure from Drift's systems. Drift's a bit...embarrassed by that, turning his head, blue optics almost...worried at his lack of self control.
Which is sorely tested by Perceptor's words. Drift's just going to flinch as if the praise causes him excruciating physical pain. It just about does.
"Don't need thanks for that." He frowns. "And I should have killed Barricade." That still rankles him. There's unfinished business with the space anemone.
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Post by Perceptor on Apr 12, 2011 19:35:25 GMT -5
Perceptor, um, definitely feels that. In fact, he's kind of hoping that Drift hasn't noticed how quickly he'd yanked his hands away as soon as that pleasurable little vibrato had started tingling in his digits. Mutually assured ignorance?
Then again, Perceptor would rather have Drift realize that his hands are, ah, particularly sensitive, than have Drift think that Perceptor was shocked or embarrassed or anything of that sort. Perhaps the best tactic is to ignore, stall, and change the subject.
"Ah, well," he manages, his voice just a little staticky for a moment, "I am grateful for your intervention, nonetheless."
"The, ah, patch," he rushes on, clutching the cloth in his hands as he steps back. "You should be able to remove it in a week. Unless you would allow me to do a more permanent repair now?" He isn't going to hold his metaphorical breath on that, but Drift may surprise him. "And I could perform similar maintenance upon the rest of your upper extremities?" he adds, nodding toward Drift's hands.
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Post by Drift on Apr 12, 2011 19:47:22 GMT -5
Drift is too wrapped up in his own embarrassment to notice anything else, fighting with the idling engine. No. Does Not Feel Good.
"Yeah, well," he gripes, "Kind of a cross-timestream habit, apparently, saving your aft." It's supposed to be a joke. Which is not in his skill set. Obviously.
He frowns. "Fix it now," he says. "Get it over with." Because if he leaves, he's not going to work up the...whatever to come back. He's only here, after all, on direct orders from Kup.
....but all this attention is making him really...squirmy. Time to deflect. "So, uh," he winces. He's so bad at this 'small talk'. "What...uh, what are you working on. You know...science."
Oh Primus he's so bad at this.
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Post by Perceptor on Apr 12, 2011 20:25:21 GMT -5
Joke or not, it is a misdirection from discomfort, and so Perceptor seizes it with both hands and runs like the wind. Or rather, he chuckles with amusement, validating the joke. And then he almost spoils it by suggesting that he is Drift's karmic burden... but common sense slams a filter onto his vocal processor at the very last second as Perceptor realizes that... Drift already has too many self-imposed burdens, and it's hardly anything to jest about.
Instead, he manages to make a (hopefully) graceful reply of, "Very well."
Except that he doesn't immediately go to work, because he is trying to decide if he should attempt to persuade Drift onto the berth - not that way! - as Perceptor is accustomed to performing repairs, or if that would be one capitulation too many and break the tenuous trust Drift is extending him.
One would think that he would be better at this, what with all the time he has spent with Swerve.
And then Drift asks him about his work? No one does that.
"Ah, well... I recently constructed a space-bridge?" he replies, deciding not to press his luck too much. Really, having Drift upright puts the injury closer to his field of vision, anyway, which should make it easier to repair, and besides, this way he will not have to bend over, which would probably really push Drift's buttons... to be loomed over in such a manner, and... He needs to shut up his own internal dialogue. "It still needs some adjustments," he adds as he turns back to his gathered supplies. "It still seems to induce nausea in most passengers."
"And I am always working on the solution to returning everyone home." Small welder, more of the solvent, some alloy rods to seal the wounds... "I am constructing a new CR pod, as the single unit that Botanica created is useful, but only for one individual at a time?"
He's rather bad at this small talk thing, too. Whodathunkit?
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Post by Drift on Apr 13, 2011 6:12:53 GMT -5
Perceptor starts to say something, and then shuts up, Drift notices. Probably a critique of his technique. Shouldn't have gone simply to disable Oil Slick. If Drift had gone for a more decisive shot instead of the rap on the thumb, none of that whole...yeah, the rest of that would have happened. His sloppiness, his weakness and it had directly hurt Perceptor.
He frowns. "You've got a working space bridge and mechs complain about nausea?" Frag. Wusses. Seems to a highly-unscientifically-minded Drift that violating the laws of time and space and only getting a bit woozily from it's a pretty good trade-off.
"We only have one CR tank?" He's never seen 'pods'. Only the large cylindrical tanks of blue goo. Note to self: try not to get fatally injured: you are not likely to be high on the waiting list for that.
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Post by Perceptor on Apr 13, 2011 12:43:12 GMT -5
Perceptor is the last mech around to critique Drift's technique! It might also surprise Drift to find that the scientist is oddly grateful that Drift had not taken the expedient solution and simply killed Oil Slick. Perceptor is no pacifist, and though he may hate Oil Slick with a passion reserved usually for his beloved sciences, Perceptor does not believe in needless killing.
Not yet, at least. He is... still attempting to wrestle that particular philosophical demon into a neatly categorized box. Obviously, it is resisting.
"Xaaron supplied the initial information; the scientists of his reality had never managed to eliminate the nausea problem, and I had hoped..." Perceptor takes failure hard. "And having such a high probability of being stricken with a potentially debilitating condition upon exit at the terminus does rather limit its usefulness." Even Perceptor can see what a tactical advantage being able to "gate" into a location, ready to fight, would be.
Materials selected, he turns back and begins gently poking at the patch, using a bit of solvent to begin lifting the edge and carefully peeling it away. "And, yes, only one, for now, however, I plan on rectifying that as soon as possible," he replies, his tone just a bit distracted as he carefully works the patch off without dislodging the tenuous repairs below.
"It is actually a method new to me. We do not use such technology where I am from." His fingers are gentle as the patch lifts away, little by little, revealing the half-knitted mesh and plating underneath. A tiny trickle of fluid seeps out, which he staunches with one thumb.
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Post by Drift on Apr 13, 2011 14:03:31 GMT -5
Killing Oil Slick is no longer in the 'needless' category for Drift. Uh, not that that's a very long list for him, anyway. Oil Slick injured Perceptor, under Drift's protection, and made Drift look like a chump. That's propelled him to the top of the Highly Stabbable list.
Now, that IS a long list.
Drift shrugs. Sort of. Hard to get a good dismissive 'meh' shrug when there's a large mech poking at your throat. But he tries, because he's that committed to his role as Truculent Outsider.
"Maybe shouldn't waste time trying to fix the fraggin' spacebridge. Maybe find a mod or something for the mechs." Or tell them not to be such robowusses. But Drift doesn't think Perceptor could quite pull that off convincingly.
"Guess that means you don't get traumatic system-wide injuries that often, here?" Drift thinks--he can't help it, since a variant of it is right in front of him--of the gaping hole Turmoil blasted through Perceptor.
He doesn't flinch as Perceptor eases off the patch. He's been expecting it to hurt; in fact, he's surprised it didn't hurt more. Huh, must have not been so injured after all.
Who's the wuss now, Drift?
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Post by Perceptor on Apr 13, 2011 15:07:13 GMT -5
And maybe it doesn't hurt because Perceptor is Just That Good? Besides, irritating the mech with the sharp, pointy objects while in such close proximity - which took this long to accomplish anyway - seems rather dangerous. And counter-productive.
"An interesting idea," Perceptor agrees. "I shall look into it."
He leans in to examine the wound, making a small noise of satisfaction as he reaches for the welder. "Here? Well, actually, several individuals have arrived in a state near deactivation, requiring immediate intervention. The Jazz from Barricade's reality, in fact, arrived after being torn in two by their Megatron. We nearly lost him."
And yet, Perceptor had not been able to save Hound, who had been grievously wounded, yes, but nothing like how Jazz had been truncated. His frown is pensive as his hands grow still for a moment upon Drift's repair.
"The very laws of Quantum Mechanics invalidate any possibility of such a thing existing, and yet, I cannot help but wonder about the existence, perhaps the very necessity, of Fate. The convergence of events which, in retrospect, seem that they could not have been altered, regardless of the preparations, or lack thereof, of those involved."
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Post by Drift on Apr 13, 2011 18:51:18 GMT -5
Wait, what?
Did Perceptor just call his idea 'interesting'? An idea about science?
"Uhhh, yeah. Probably a stupid idea, anyway."
Drift listens to Perceptor's recounting of the injured mech. Mostly, to the strain behind the voice. For all that Perceptor wasn't a medic, he seemed really...bothered by his lack of success.
"Shouldn't be too hard on yourself. You did everything possible." It feels...weird to be consoling someone, especially when, he himself feels he's never done enough.
"Fate? To explain someone's death?" Or to explain why you ended up...there of all places, Drift? Drift gives an uncomfortable chuff. "Just seems like a way to set up for failure."
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