Ep 0.5 - Can't Say Goodbye To Yesterday (Closed)

Skydive was still quite new. He could navigate the main parts of the base, but that was the control room, medbay, and 'crew' quarters. Now, he was more boldly wandering other corridors of the converted silo, meeting others and getting to know the layout better.

He could just hear it now, "Ooh-hoho, Skydive, you bold sumofaglitch! You just discovered the cleaning supplies all by yourself!"

The Lightning II couldn't decide if such teasing was his inner self or an imagined parody of certain bots from his past. Either way, it annoyed him and he mentally batted it away. He liked to do things at his own pace, and when it wasn't flying or reading, that pace was generally turtlesque. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing wrong with that.

Peering around the end of a corridor he'd thought had ended, he found yet another hall that looked more deserted, more desolate than the others. Nevertheless, it looked well used. Uncertain if this was a private space, but unwilling to back away merely because of self doubt, he stepped forward and continued onward.

It didn't take long for him to turn into a room, ending up staring at the broadside of a shorter mech with a cube or three tucked into his tanks. The mech was unfamiliar, but his body language was. He looked bleary, unaware, and utterly depressed.

Skydive nearly kept on turning, eager to leave before he was noticed and dragged into some drunken venting session. It wouldn't have been the first time; he had his own little share of mechs who needed a friendly shoulder and an understanding audio. his quiet nature seemed to attract the talkers, overall. However, no two bots were the same, and he had no right to assume this mech was like any others. Everybot had different reasons to be depressed, even after the war. Especially after the war.

How heartless was it to turn away? It suggested a loftiness to his character that Skydive knew he possessed but wasn't willing to admit he had. He was a good person, dammit! He could set aside a moment to see if there was any way he could help.

The blue flier moved toward the brightly colored mech and reached out a narrow hand before yanking it back and stepping out of arm's length. One never knew if an overcharged mech was the violent sort, even among Autobots. Physical touch, therefore, wasn't a good idea. Just in case. Instead, he unleashed his EM field a bit, just enough to announce his presence in the room if the mech hadn't noticed him already. Then he reset his voice box in a manner similar to clearing his throat.

"Excuse me? Are you alright?"

He could have smacked himself. Was he alright? Of course he wasn't alright. A look at him and one knew the mech wasn't alright! What a noob thing to say..

--

OOC: Skydive thinks a lot...

Skydive hesitated, but ended up slowly lowering himself to the seat beside the slightly unstable mech and taking up a cube of his own.

Again he hesitated, the high grade not exactly appealing to him for its effects on the body, but as a flier this stuff came in handy as a quick boost - in small amounts.

He turned over what the mech had said, surprised at the news of a sparkling. Truthfully, he'd never seen one before, and mechs his age or younger were few and far in between apparently. This guy didn't seem happy about it, although it looked like he was trying. Hard.

"I'm sorry for sneaking up on you. I'm Skydive, and yeah, I just arrived..." He paused. "And yes, that is...amazing news."

He wanted to ask why the mech was so miserable, but that was hardly the right move in general. It was more than possible he'd get lies in response, followed by rationalizing, and that hardly helped anyone. So, Skydive would just have to settle in and put to use his talent for patience.

He sipped a bit of energon, repressing shudders at its strength. It had been quite a while since he'd had energon of this quality.

Okay, he'd heard of Blaster, and his voice did sound familiar. But Skydive otherwise knew nothing about him.

He listened as Blaster settled back, slurring his words further, the stumbling more pronounced as he elaborated.

"I... can only agree, Blaster," Skydive conceded, seeing the point. Having a brand new bot running around, no experience and curious about the world, with Decepticons looking for every opportunity to weaken the Autobot front? A sparkling wasn't only at risk, it was a risk. On the other hand, Skydive didn't know just how this bot would come online. "Are they planning to put it into a - ah - normal frame? Or a sparkling frame?"

He didn't know how this stuff worked. Sparked well after the war started, he himself had been a liability, but his creators had done everything they could to make sure he was ready for the big fight. That was as a fully framed Autobot. He hadn't heard much about sparklings, except that they were rare and expensive, and also that they were vulnerable. Neither was a good option with merciless opportunistic mechs out there scavenging for anything they could use against the Prime and his forces. As such, a sparkling could be a security hazard.

He supposed it wasn't his place to think such things, so he said nothing on the matter. He was still curious, though.

"So, you're the eyes and ears of the - "

Skydive startled, Blaster's sudden attention on him causing him to jump. His pale optics shifted to his own drink, mostly full, and compared it quickly with Blaster's. Again, he hesitated.

Oh, he was going to regret this, he knew it. But sometimes joining in was an excellent way to connect to someone else, especially if they were feeling down and wanted company in the Pits. Besides, he could handle a cube. It was the second or third he had to watch for.

At that thought, Skydive took a proper drink, shuddering again as his tanks took the strong substance in. He faced Blaster, face as straight as he could make it, though concern and curiosity were apparent.

"So... is the sparkling being a threat to security the concern that has you..." He gestured around vaguely. "Here, right now?"

Skydive nodded, digesting Blaster's explanation a little slower than usual. Alarmed, he ran a self diagnostic, but it seemed his systems were in tip top shape. In fact, his energy readings were off the chart.

Damn...already? he thought, looking at his cube. It was only half finished and he already had a buzz.

Squinting, he half tuned out of Blaster's monologue to search his memory for a moment. When was the last time he'd felt like this? Quite a while ago, although that hadn't been from High Grade. He had his own cohort to thank for THAT little adventure. Now, however, this was his doing, in an effort to comfort a comrade in arms. He stared at the cube for another moment before taking a proper swig, noting that it was easier.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about Toaster," Skydive said rather seriously, feeling like it was the right thing to say firstly and not really knowing why. He shook his head and continued, trying to dissect Blaster's words with a processor that was getting fuzzier faster than he'd though. Primus, how strong was this stuff? "Freedom...wait, Primus apotheosis. I read about that somewhere. Did she - I mean, is she - ?"

He wanted to ask if she was alive, though he didn't dare hope for a positive answer, and he certainly wasn't sure if it was the right direction to take the conversation. But...If this wasn't about the sparkling but the mech's own history, he could guess what happened. And Blaster was pretty drunk, so using his own analogy, the question answered itself... He thought... Did it?

Skydive thought about that, not quite remembering the details of the condition. But he knew enough to know that it was bad, and that Blaster had the unfortunate luck to suffer the loss of a loved one because of it. That deserved another drink, cuz he couldn't quite say anything to that and sound in any way reassuring. He sucked at condolences, and a mech this deep in high grade was probably too far gone for an awkwardly composed philosophical speech or the fumbling diatribe of a mech who couldn't accurately relate. Skydive was here to listen anyway, not speak.

"Sorry," he apologized anyway, staring into the bottom of his cube. Should he get another? He wasn't sure he wanted one. He had nothing to forget, and he had no pain to drown. At least, he thought he didn't.

Skydive thought that statement over for a klik while grabbing himself another cube. He peered oer his shoulder when he sat back down, his wings sitting innocently on his back. Then he snorted.

"That made no sense," he smiled, taking a more comfortable gulp. The very wings he'd just looked at to make sure they were where they were supposed to be sagged into an uncharacteristically relaxed slump, the energon his systems were processing shorting out that part of him that demanded proper posture. As a result, he leaned more heavily into the bar.

Skydive was quickly reaching the point of Definitely Overcharged, and somewhere in his mind he knew it. That little voice was also trying to remind him that he was complete lightweight and that he'd be regretting that second cube later. However, the High Grade had taken care to make sure he ignored that cautionary little voice while he was still sitting. This was a sure warning that his second cube would soon become a third.

"Do you...Do you have a cohort here? Are Hide and Cleaver part of it?" he inquired somewhat cautiously. He tended to open up more when drunk, but he wasn't here to talk about himself or flying or ace pilots or any of that. He was still trying to not be a tactless idiot. So he pushed forward, his optics catching on a black spot on the wall that looked like a B-52. "You mentioned them earlier."