[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Sleep is for the Weak [Closed]
Oct 28, 2022 18:03:06 GMT -5
Post by Flatline on Oct 28, 2022 18:03:06 GMT -5
A calm glance was offered to Nokta as the mech's helm swiveled over to look at Knock Out, noting instantly the path of his white lens plates and how they flicked across his frame. It was such a quick little evaluation; a brief glance offered as if trying to decipher the validity of such a vanity drenched comment. To most, it could be lost between the cracks, the overall eye tone bleeding over such small pinpricks into a solid color even just a couple steps away. It was only due to Flatline's closer perspective that it stood out as much as it did, which made the following words Nokta made borderline funny to him.
The top edge of Flatline's lip twitched up slightly on one side, a flickered attempt to hide a grin that only went so far. It almost distorted into a sneer in his efforts to hide it, though the bit of amusement was hard to completely muddle down. Whatever the case, it wasn't overtly obvious, which was perhaps the best that could be asked for at the moment. This smile however was instantly vaporized at Knock Out's declaration about his cane.
"Primus' sake Knock Out."
An annoyed growled sound, the flicked smile then fully transitioning into a sort of grimace. Flatline couldn't stand such things being thrown around like that. Even on the chance he absolutely ate them up and basked in compliments... which he most ASSUREDLY did not... It was an unprofessional thing to do and unacceptable on numerous levels. This low tolerance was even more narrowed given it was in front of a newcomer, and then slap on a nice final stamp that it was a Lieutenant and the metaphorical facepalm could almost be heard in his tone of voice itself.
Detaching himself, Flatline looked back at the monitor, which was a good thing given he then missed the once over that Nokta then threw his way to see for himself. It would have been a profoundly awkward thing, and he was better off left ignorant, completely missing the motion. While he had been redirected, blissfully unaware, the dark clad mech speaking up once more would pull his focus back.
Ah. The damage.
"You certainly look ragged but it is superficial."
An idle comment, to try to set at ease. Even if things were a little deeper than simple top layers, it wasn’t enough to warrant worry and would be downplayed to keep a patient from getting uneasy or anxious over how badly it may actually be.
"That is something Knock Out could help with, if you are so inclined."
Flatline could paint and finish surfaces, but it was a rough functional patch given their situation and his tolerance levels in current events. He didn't take the time to fully tape around and mask things for a sharp pristine finish, unless he absolutely had to. Perhaps Nokta would be one that wanted a crisp look, rather than just needing it painted and polished over enough to hide silver and smooth indentations.
"Alright, I think I have things finally keyed. I want you to think back a moment to how you got off Cybertron so I can mark a pulse line."
He wanted to make sure the area associated with rooting old data to the forefront was activating right on the readouts, and if that marker had been struck correctly, then he knew he had things focused enough to finally dive towards the needed areas. If Nokta was a normal individual, Flatline would likely already know what was wrong and could be discussing options... but nooo.... everyone on this damn planet simply had to be a chore and a half for him to try to help.
The top edge of Flatline's lip twitched up slightly on one side, a flickered attempt to hide a grin that only went so far. It almost distorted into a sneer in his efforts to hide it, though the bit of amusement was hard to completely muddle down. Whatever the case, it wasn't overtly obvious, which was perhaps the best that could be asked for at the moment. This smile however was instantly vaporized at Knock Out's declaration about his cane.
"Primus' sake Knock Out."
An annoyed growled sound, the flicked smile then fully transitioning into a sort of grimace. Flatline couldn't stand such things being thrown around like that. Even on the chance he absolutely ate them up and basked in compliments... which he most ASSUREDLY did not... It was an unprofessional thing to do and unacceptable on numerous levels. This low tolerance was even more narrowed given it was in front of a newcomer, and then slap on a nice final stamp that it was a Lieutenant and the metaphorical facepalm could almost be heard in his tone of voice itself.
Detaching himself, Flatline looked back at the monitor, which was a good thing given he then missed the once over that Nokta then threw his way to see for himself. It would have been a profoundly awkward thing, and he was better off left ignorant, completely missing the motion. While he had been redirected, blissfully unaware, the dark clad mech speaking up once more would pull his focus back.
Ah. The damage.
"You certainly look ragged but it is superficial."
An idle comment, to try to set at ease. Even if things were a little deeper than simple top layers, it wasn’t enough to warrant worry and would be downplayed to keep a patient from getting uneasy or anxious over how badly it may actually be.
"That is something Knock Out could help with, if you are so inclined."
Flatline could paint and finish surfaces, but it was a rough functional patch given their situation and his tolerance levels in current events. He didn't take the time to fully tape around and mask things for a sharp pristine finish, unless he absolutely had to. Perhaps Nokta would be one that wanted a crisp look, rather than just needing it painted and polished over enough to hide silver and smooth indentations.
"Alright, I think I have things finally keyed. I want you to think back a moment to how you got off Cybertron so I can mark a pulse line."
He wanted to make sure the area associated with rooting old data to the forefront was activating right on the readouts, and if that marker had been struck correctly, then he knew he had things focused enough to finally dive towards the needed areas. If Nokta was a normal individual, Flatline would likely already know what was wrong and could be discussing options... but nooo.... everyone on this damn planet simply had to be a chore and a half for him to try to help.