Ep. 2 - Strange Attractors - (Closed)
May 14, 2016 19:38:49 GMT -5
Post by Feldspar on May 14, 2016 19:38:49 GMT -5
"Wheeljack, eh?" Tailspin echoed. The mech had a quick, firm shake, not the sort that attempted to pull your hand off or do a bit of testing; it was actually quite polite without any lingering hold. Now that Wheeljack could look him over, there wasn't a sigil anywhere on him, at least not on his front. "Wreckers? Never heard of them myself, but eh, assume it's some Autobot thing I've missed while I've been off in the great wild span of space and I'm guessing it has to do with the hush hush whatever you're on."
Then the teal mech lifted a hand, and held it palm up. Faint lights from the ship caught the edges of his wings, making the metallic paint shimmer and gleam. His wings rustled slightly, the tips lifting before they settled back behind him like a cape.
"Pfft," he snorted, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "Mythical. No, that would be me charging in with an energy lance on equinoid-back to save worlds in distress. Sorry, I stopped doing that ages ago. You know how hard it is to feed those stupid things? Let alone getting them repaired when someone takes a potshot at them? Let me tell you, everyone aims for the thing you're riding. Now I'm not saying it's not perfectly smart tactics, but it's such an absolute anoyance. So, so annoying.
"Now I just scrounge like everyone else. There's credits in wheeling and dealing. Don't like to come here myself often, but there's a lot of credits in Cybetronian materials."
A light sniff escaped his vents. "Not tech. I don't do that sort of thing, mate, enough problems with ourselves having it, let alone selling it off to the highest bidder. There's enough metal here for a quick jump in, load up, get out, so the crew and I get by. I get by. Speaking of getting - eh, you do smell a bit suspect," he admitted, as he glanced down at Wheeljack's gunk-spattered legs. "Have to say I'd rather be any place that didn't involve climbing through the depths of this place."
Tailspin glanced around them at the grey and ruined buildings. "Eck," he grumbled. "I rememember this place when it was a whole lot nicer, have to say that- what, my ship?"
He turned his head and looked back over at the spacecraft behind them, before glancing back at Wheeljack. His left optic narrowed again as he scrutinized the Wrecker.
"Yep, there was a bit of an issue with my head mechanic a bit back," he offered with a shrug. Then he held up his thumb and forefinger close together. "Tiny bit. We didn't see optic to optic over a situation recently, and hmm, well, we had to make a compromise."
"A little compromise," he admitted with a shake of his head. "Tiny little one! Teeny. Minor! He said that he needed more credits for the job he was working, I said you know, let me think about it! So we compromised. I suppose when he woke up in the spaceport in Riglion Four and realized he's got no way to get off the planet and there's not a whole lot to do there besides sell his cargo hauling capabilities for a little fuel, he'll be much more understanding about my budget limits when I decide to go back and get him."
"But yes, both systems have been a bit off, has been since we took a hit outrunning a pirate cruiser recently," Tailspin replied. "Interesting. You can tell that from here? That makes me think you know a thing or two about ship engines?"
His focus on Wheeljack narrowed. "Also, how to repair them, perhaps?"
Then the teal mech lifted a hand, and held it palm up. Faint lights from the ship caught the edges of his wings, making the metallic paint shimmer and gleam. His wings rustled slightly, the tips lifting before they settled back behind him like a cape.
"Pfft," he snorted, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "Mythical. No, that would be me charging in with an energy lance on equinoid-back to save worlds in distress. Sorry, I stopped doing that ages ago. You know how hard it is to feed those stupid things? Let alone getting them repaired when someone takes a potshot at them? Let me tell you, everyone aims for the thing you're riding. Now I'm not saying it's not perfectly smart tactics, but it's such an absolute anoyance. So, so annoying.
"Now I just scrounge like everyone else. There's credits in wheeling and dealing. Don't like to come here myself often, but there's a lot of credits in Cybetronian materials."
A light sniff escaped his vents. "Not tech. I don't do that sort of thing, mate, enough problems with ourselves having it, let alone selling it off to the highest bidder. There's enough metal here for a quick jump in, load up, get out, so the crew and I get by. I get by. Speaking of getting - eh, you do smell a bit suspect," he admitted, as he glanced down at Wheeljack's gunk-spattered legs. "Have to say I'd rather be any place that didn't involve climbing through the depths of this place."
Tailspin glanced around them at the grey and ruined buildings. "Eck," he grumbled. "I rememember this place when it was a whole lot nicer, have to say that- what, my ship?"
He turned his head and looked back over at the spacecraft behind them, before glancing back at Wheeljack. His left optic narrowed again as he scrutinized the Wrecker.
"Yep, there was a bit of an issue with my head mechanic a bit back," he offered with a shrug. Then he held up his thumb and forefinger close together. "Tiny bit. We didn't see optic to optic over a situation recently, and hmm, well, we had to make a compromise."
"A little compromise," he admitted with a shake of his head. "Tiny little one! Teeny. Minor! He said that he needed more credits for the job he was working, I said you know, let me think about it! So we compromised. I suppose when he woke up in the spaceport in Riglion Four and realized he's got no way to get off the planet and there's not a whole lot to do there besides sell his cargo hauling capabilities for a little fuel, he'll be much more understanding about my budget limits when I decide to go back and get him."
"But yes, both systems have been a bit off, has been since we took a hit outrunning a pirate cruiser recently," Tailspin replied. "Interesting. You can tell that from here? That makes me think you know a thing or two about ship engines?"
His focus on Wheeljack narrowed. "Also, how to repair them, perhaps?"