[ti]Ep 3[/ti]CON-fidentiality (Knock Out, Open)
Apr 23, 2022 12:24:15 GMT -5
Post by Starkrieger on Apr 23, 2022 12:24:15 GMT -5
Fear didn’t suffer logic. Knock Out's proximity had already triggered concerns about the CMO’s intentions, but when Flatline also started to close in, the Seeker’s optics darted towards him, before shifting between the pair. Subconsciously his weight adjusted to lean away. Intentions though became clear. Flatline’s directive was the cane, not that it really would have mattered.
After all… medics were not to be resisted.
Still it was a relief, his spark energy leveling out from the spike of anxiety. Enough so, the quickly cycling emotions gave way to allow consideration of Flatline’s plight. Briefly, the thought of reaching out to take the mech’s cane and offer it over crossed his mind. However, oblivious as he was to the other’s emotional struggle; he did recognize the danger in so handling such an instrument… There were those in the medic’s position that considered touching it tantamount to putting hands on the mech himself, a violation of his autonomy. Perhaps wisely, he did not interfere, for ill nor good. Being hardly acquainted, it was not his place to insert himself in so personal a matter.
Knock Out’s assurances further put his concerns to rest, he didn't intend to subject him to a scan. A truly merciful CMO, one of the reasons Krieg favored him.
“Nothing would please me more than to submit myself to your ‘ministrations’ Doctor.” Despite a hint of worn nerves, his overarching tone quality was as it should be, suggestive promise. His answer would be more casual. Raising his left hand to casually flip it up in a gesture that cast aside concern, his easy offhanded airs was used to avoid misunderstandings. “Though, perhaps it would be better if we scheduled a follow up, say in the mess hall?” Far from the med bay scanners, sedatives and other medic related devices.
“I, sadly, am ill equipped to join you in a jaunt outside the base." With a roll of his wrist, his claws were brought together for their tips to idly test one another, as he lazily eyed the result. Of course, there was no mech or femme worth sacrificing flight for, but for Knock Out, he could accept the burden of this shortcoming between them.
After all… medics were not to be resisted.
Still it was a relief, his spark energy leveling out from the spike of anxiety. Enough so, the quickly cycling emotions gave way to allow consideration of Flatline’s plight. Briefly, the thought of reaching out to take the mech’s cane and offer it over crossed his mind. However, oblivious as he was to the other’s emotional struggle; he did recognize the danger in so handling such an instrument… There were those in the medic’s position that considered touching it tantamount to putting hands on the mech himself, a violation of his autonomy. Perhaps wisely, he did not interfere, for ill nor good. Being hardly acquainted, it was not his place to insert himself in so personal a matter.
Knock Out’s assurances further put his concerns to rest, he didn't intend to subject him to a scan. A truly merciful CMO, one of the reasons Krieg favored him.
“Nothing would please me more than to submit myself to your ‘ministrations’ Doctor.” Despite a hint of worn nerves, his overarching tone quality was as it should be, suggestive promise. His answer would be more casual. Raising his left hand to casually flip it up in a gesture that cast aside concern, his easy offhanded airs was used to avoid misunderstandings. “Though, perhaps it would be better if we scheduled a follow up, say in the mess hall?” Far from the med bay scanners, sedatives and other medic related devices.
“I, sadly, am ill equipped to join you in a jaunt outside the base." With a roll of his wrist, his claws were brought together for their tips to idly test one another, as he lazily eyed the result. Of course, there was no mech or femme worth sacrificing flight for, but for Knock Out, he could accept the burden of this shortcoming between them.