Ep 0 - "Somniloquy" - Closed
Jan 11, 2012 0:37:03 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jan 11, 2012 0:37:03 GMT -5
Shadowrunner and Ironhide ground bridged back to find the control room in chaos, Ratchet at the heart of it yelling at an enormous mech Shadow had never seen before. Voices were raised and EMFs were flaring hot with post-battle emotion, slamming into Shadow's already raw systems like hitting a wall at a hundred miles an hour.
Shadow stopped just past the ground bridge horizon, aching and suddenly exhausted, and let the larger mech continue without her. All she wanted was
(a handful of familiar fields wrapped cool around her, the soothing press of familiar frames, the soft whirr-chirp of Basic)
peace and quiet and a few hours of recharge. Everything else - the dirt ground into joints and scraping in transformation seams, the damage Barricade had done her inside and out - could wait, she decided. Ratchet could yell at her tomorrow as easily as tonight, and Ironhide slagging well better be able to spin up a reasonable story for what had happened with Barricade.
A quick glance around the room to place everyone, to make sure no one was paying her any particular attention amidst everything else that was going on; another few moments to determine that, no, none of this involved Blaster reporting on just what he had come upon in the desert; and she slipped out of the control room and into the corridors leading to everyone's quarters. The ring of her steps against the reinforced concrete floor was enough to redouble the pounding inside her helm; the spectrum of the industrial lighting hit her optics in all the wrong ways.
Her quarters were blessedly quiet and dark. Nothing at all to aggravate the residual feedback symptoms.
Nothing to distract her from the demons in her own processor.
Shadow stopped just past the ground bridge horizon, aching and suddenly exhausted, and let the larger mech continue without her. All she wanted was
(a handful of familiar fields wrapped cool around her, the soothing press of familiar frames, the soft whirr-chirp of Basic)
peace and quiet and a few hours of recharge. Everything else - the dirt ground into joints and scraping in transformation seams, the damage Barricade had done her inside and out - could wait, she decided. Ratchet could yell at her tomorrow as easily as tonight, and Ironhide slagging well better be able to spin up a reasonable story for what had happened with Barricade.
A quick glance around the room to place everyone, to make sure no one was paying her any particular attention amidst everything else that was going on; another few moments to determine that, no, none of this involved Blaster reporting on just what he had come upon in the desert; and she slipped out of the control room and into the corridors leading to everyone's quarters. The ring of her steps against the reinforced concrete floor was enough to redouble the pounding inside her helm; the spectrum of the industrial lighting hit her optics in all the wrong ways.
Her quarters were blessedly quiet and dark. Nothing at all to aggravate the residual feedback symptoms.
Nothing to distract her from the demons in her own processor.