Ep0.5 - Coming In Hot - Closed
Jan 8, 2012 21:07:00 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jan 8, 2012 21:07:00 GMT -5
((Continued from: tf-prime-rp.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=asia&thread=151&page=1#908))
Jazz was laughing as he came through the bridge, which startled Sideswipe only a little. Not that Jazz was laughing, but the sudden sound of it and that fact he hadn’t heard it in eons seemed to kick him back to Kaon for all of a split second, Cybertron intact, the world broken and wrong but in that familiar way that most things were broken or wrong. That vague dissatisfaction and them, all drop-caste, no-account, nobodies fighting back to back to take what they needed and by any mean necessary, but on your terms. It meant nothing if you didn’t do it on your terms, though he’d never been sure if Jazz shared that perspective.
“Well then,” said Sideswipe, still speaking his easy Kaonese, slang and fluent and utterly low-caste native. He looked Jazz up and down as he leaned against the control console, shutting it down with an easy throw of a switch. He grinned. “You really aren’t dead!”
He didn’t have to say much more than that. Sideswipe’s was the sort of EMF that you could feel across the room it was so open, long-wave and easy, and through no expression but electromagnetics and that grin did he tell the other mech how good it was to see a familiar face. Allegiances meant nothing here. And if there was a Bot he could trust to mute it when he needed, it was Jazz. Sideswipe laughed.
“Primus! You are hilarious when you’re crashing!” He pushed off toward the hallway, walking backwards from Jazz, grinning, jerking his head impudently toward the bridge. “I have a playback of the whole thing if you want. That is a creative use of blasphemy as I’ve ever heard and as you know, I am a pro.”
Jazz was laughing as he came through the bridge, which startled Sideswipe only a little. Not that Jazz was laughing, but the sudden sound of it and that fact he hadn’t heard it in eons seemed to kick him back to Kaon for all of a split second, Cybertron intact, the world broken and wrong but in that familiar way that most things were broken or wrong. That vague dissatisfaction and them, all drop-caste, no-account, nobodies fighting back to back to take what they needed and by any mean necessary, but on your terms. It meant nothing if you didn’t do it on your terms, though he’d never been sure if Jazz shared that perspective.
“Well then,” said Sideswipe, still speaking his easy Kaonese, slang and fluent and utterly low-caste native. He looked Jazz up and down as he leaned against the control console, shutting it down with an easy throw of a switch. He grinned. “You really aren’t dead!”
He didn’t have to say much more than that. Sideswipe’s was the sort of EMF that you could feel across the room it was so open, long-wave and easy, and through no expression but electromagnetics and that grin did he tell the other mech how good it was to see a familiar face. Allegiances meant nothing here. And if there was a Bot he could trust to mute it when he needed, it was Jazz. Sideswipe laughed.
“Primus! You are hilarious when you’re crashing!” He pushed off toward the hallway, walking backwards from Jazz, grinning, jerking his head impudently toward the bridge. “I have a playback of the whole thing if you want. That is a creative use of blasphemy as I’ve ever heard and as you know, I am a pro.”