Two Mech Enter, One Mech Leaves (Open)
Feb 5, 2016 0:23:46 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Feb 5, 2016 0:23:46 GMT -5
Ghost Wind was many things. First and foremost, he was a maintenance mech. He was tougher to kill than a Earth roach, he could output a decent amount of firepower. He'd worn all sorts of hats in his relatively short and potentially misspent, harrowing existence: janitor, soldier, petty officer, sniper, gofer. He liked gofer least of all, honestly.
What he was not, was a spy. He saw the one man talking on his cellphone while the other human approached him and, bless his blunt charge of a spark, he didn't even think of peeking into the conversation. His thoughts were limited to 'oh, look, the monkey's talking into his talking-monkey box'.
Soundwave, somewhere, was probably feeling an inexplicable urge to smack someone.
His holoform leaned back and laced the fingers of one hand into the other, making the 'leather' creak and the 'knuckles' pop. He'd discovered the gesture (or was it the noises), tended to make people stare a little less. "That sucks," he offered honestly. He was pretty sure losing one's job, in human terms, didn't come at the business end of a plasma gun, but he could at least relate to the sentiment.
The holo leaned back on the Tomahawk, and then pointedly to one side. "What happened, what'd you guys hit?" It was the most absurd of human behaviors, as if by leaning and peeking from a different angle he could somehow pierce the protective metal siding of the truck and to its contents, but hey, if he had to pass for a monkey, he could copy like the best. "What are you guys carrying?" He flicked a finger, as if he'd just figured it out. "Trying to skip out on the highway patrols, were you?"
What he was not, was a spy. He saw the one man talking on his cellphone while the other human approached him and, bless his blunt charge of a spark, he didn't even think of peeking into the conversation. His thoughts were limited to 'oh, look, the monkey's talking into his talking-monkey box'.
Soundwave, somewhere, was probably feeling an inexplicable urge to smack someone.
His holoform leaned back and laced the fingers of one hand into the other, making the 'leather' creak and the 'knuckles' pop. He'd discovered the gesture (or was it the noises), tended to make people stare a little less. "That sucks," he offered honestly. He was pretty sure losing one's job, in human terms, didn't come at the business end of a plasma gun, but he could at least relate to the sentiment.
The holo leaned back on the Tomahawk, and then pointedly to one side. "What happened, what'd you guys hit?" It was the most absurd of human behaviors, as if by leaning and peeking from a different angle he could somehow pierce the protective metal siding of the truck and to its contents, but hey, if he had to pass for a monkey, he could copy like the best. "What are you guys carrying?" He flicked a finger, as if he'd just figured it out. "Trying to skip out on the highway patrols, were you?"