[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Sleep is for the Weak [Closed]
Aug 12, 2022 19:58:32 GMT -5
Post by Flatline on Aug 12, 2022 19:58:32 GMT -5
Flatline didn't know if the compliment was truly that, or if it was a mocking sort of statement on how he had 'finally' figured it out... but it wasn’t important... There were other factors to start looking into rather than picking a fight over something that didn't even warrant one.
Whatever the case, when all was said and done this day, Flatline would need to jot down all the parameters he set the scanning machine to in order to replicate it in the future. If things truly were wrong and Nokta's life was on the line, he didn't need Knock Out and himself poking around frantically trying to find the right levels everything needed to be. Over time, they could likely refine it, fine tune everything to make it as accurate as possible, but that day wasn't today. The goal in the now was to make sure he was alright overall, and that there were no real issues in play.
"Is the abnormality formed from creation or damage?"
A passing statement. If this mech had survived countless years with whatever was going on going on? Then it was what it was. In contrast, should it be sourced from some sort of injury or modifications in the past? Then knowing what caused it could be accounted for and referenced later down the line when working around wherever the defect lay. Flatline was understandably curious however, such was the nature of his interests and how he always wanted to 'win' at medicine and know all, but this wasn't the time when other things could be wrong.
Standing up with a push, Flatline's movements would go somewhat ragged a moment, his one leg twisting slightly away from his frame, before a scraped pop sounded as whatever was out of line must have snapped back into place. The motion caused a few of the panels and plates along his spine to rattle, before everything seemed to ease and he planted his ped down beneath his mass. Now that he was on his feet, Flatline would move around the readout machine, using its top as mild support before he grasped the Medical Berth. He had a rather apparent limp, but it was not dangerous for him to maneuver in such short spans without a cane.
"Stasis can create a variety of issues."
A simple declaration as he settled at the top end of the medical slab.
"From the pod's structure itself applying strain, whether it was appropriate for your frame, or if the charges were ever compatible to begin with due to your abnormality."
Settling into place, Flatline would reach forward to show his hands momentarily, a sort of wordless declaration that he was going to grab Nokta's helm, without just doing so from out of the mech's line of sight. As his limbs moved back, Flatline would grasp onto the underside of his helm, carefully angling it to look straight up rather than trying to peer over towards Knock Out or look up at him. With everything 'evened' out, Flatline would carefully drag the blunted curve of the back of his thumbs across the paneling that folded over the primary cage. He put effort into moving each side identical to the other, comparing one portion of his helm to the other.
Flatline was looking to see if the lands and falls of each seam and overlay were mirrored, or if something was pushed out of alignment or seemed abnormal in any way. A ridge of damage, a displaced base component or welding marks from injury or modification... From the most overt or minor of anomalies, Flatline would try to find it, almost using his fingers like calipers to measure everything out away from the start of Nokta's spinal column.
Planning ahead, Flatline preemptively asked his next question.
"Have you ever received damage to your helm before?"
Flatline never really SOUNDED joyful... his voice always a rather dead tone or snarled sarcasm on the best of days... however Knock Out could likely pick up on the fact that he seemed slightly lighter. It was nothing the new Decepticon would cue into as being abnormal, yet it was there, a form of lightness in play when he could devote his processor to something that wasn't living in raw fear and inner torment out of the uncertainty of every day.
He was interested and focused, filling a role he was meant to fill.
Whatever the case, when all was said and done this day, Flatline would need to jot down all the parameters he set the scanning machine to in order to replicate it in the future. If things truly were wrong and Nokta's life was on the line, he didn't need Knock Out and himself poking around frantically trying to find the right levels everything needed to be. Over time, they could likely refine it, fine tune everything to make it as accurate as possible, but that day wasn't today. The goal in the now was to make sure he was alright overall, and that there were no real issues in play.
"Is the abnormality formed from creation or damage?"
A passing statement. If this mech had survived countless years with whatever was going on going on? Then it was what it was. In contrast, should it be sourced from some sort of injury or modifications in the past? Then knowing what caused it could be accounted for and referenced later down the line when working around wherever the defect lay. Flatline was understandably curious however, such was the nature of his interests and how he always wanted to 'win' at medicine and know all, but this wasn't the time when other things could be wrong.
Listening further, it appeared as though Nokta had a decent bead on where the discomfort had been. Many could be rather vague about 'front of helm' or 'right of helm', or other such commentary that didn't guide too well... somehow expecting medics to have mind reading capabilities to just KNOW at a glance! Yet, what could have seemed like an idle tap previously, was now more direct, implying greater knowledge of both the ailment itself, as well as knowing that the more details that were offered could speed things up.
The ability to narrow it all down and not have to play twenty questions meant everything.
Standing up with a push, Flatline's movements would go somewhat ragged a moment, his one leg twisting slightly away from his frame, before a scraped pop sounded as whatever was out of line must have snapped back into place. The motion caused a few of the panels and plates along his spine to rattle, before everything seemed to ease and he planted his ped down beneath his mass. Now that he was on his feet, Flatline would move around the readout machine, using its top as mild support before he grasped the Medical Berth. He had a rather apparent limp, but it was not dangerous for him to maneuver in such short spans without a cane.
"Stasis can create a variety of issues."
A simple declaration as he settled at the top end of the medical slab.
"From the pod's structure itself applying strain, whether it was appropriate for your frame, or if the charges were ever compatible to begin with due to your abnormality."
Settling into place, Flatline would reach forward to show his hands momentarily, a sort of wordless declaration that he was going to grab Nokta's helm, without just doing so from out of the mech's line of sight. As his limbs moved back, Flatline would grasp onto the underside of his helm, carefully angling it to look straight up rather than trying to peer over towards Knock Out or look up at him. With everything 'evened' out, Flatline would carefully drag the blunted curve of the back of his thumbs across the paneling that folded over the primary cage. He put effort into moving each side identical to the other, comparing one portion of his helm to the other.
Flatline was looking to see if the lands and falls of each seam and overlay were mirrored, or if something was pushed out of alignment or seemed abnormal in any way. A ridge of damage, a displaced base component or welding marks from injury or modification... From the most overt or minor of anomalies, Flatline would try to find it, almost using his fingers like calipers to measure everything out away from the start of Nokta's spinal column.
Planning ahead, Flatline preemptively asked his next question.
"Have you ever received damage to your helm before?"
Flatline never really SOUNDED joyful... his voice always a rather dead tone or snarled sarcasm on the best of days... however Knock Out could likely pick up on the fact that he seemed slightly lighter. It was nothing the new Decepticon would cue into as being abnormal, yet it was there, a form of lightness in play when he could devote his processor to something that wasn't living in raw fear and inner torment out of the uncertainty of every day.
He was interested and focused, filling a role he was meant to fill.