[ti]Ep 3.5[/ti]High Hopes [Open]
Nov 13, 2022 20:59:48 GMT -5
Post by Unit 74 on Nov 13, 2022 20:59:48 GMT -5
Week 1 | Day 3 - early AM
Everything was big again.
Giant chairs, massive assorted items on the table, even just the space itself was expansive. How overwhelming it must have been to the natives of the planet, to stand in the presence of literal titans, and yet, to the yellow minicon, it felt right.
On digitigrade pedes, Unit 74 stood, potentially lost to the shadows of meager Cybertronian furnishings. Pausing at the entrance to the rec room he became that much smaller; the cleaning unit settled down till he stood on his whole foot as most mecha did. In the early hours of the morning, many were likely in recharge, the lighting reduced to save energy and foster a sense of time within the walls of the base. Peaceful, fostering introspection on this new home. . He took it in, content to no longer be alone.
We have found our friends, but there are no brothers here.
He reflected that It was better with 'brothers', having many units made the work easier... but he hadn't seen them , not for a long time. For a click, anxious digits drummed together. There weren't words he knew to understand the feelings simmering in his spark, but the thoughts that upset him vanished almost as quickly as they had come. The emotions attached to them dissolving, as Seventy-four spotted the thing he was looking for. Bouncing back up onto his toes, the Minicon broke into a smile.
Rather than crossing in the open, he kept to the wall, until he reached his goal, the energon dispenser. Helm tipped back, he sized up the distance, a shift of his pedes helping move his processor along as excitement wormed its way through his fidgeting limbs.
The coast was clear, giving him a moment before he was holding anyone up.
It is not as high up as most friends. Easy!
Lowering himself, he sprang a good distance, servos tagging the wall, to stick against the surface. Gentle claws twitched without leaving a single mark, as his pedes sorted themselves out once more, the padding of his soles, and his joint wheels adding to his grip. With confidence he continued up, scaling the side towards the panel used to work out one's rations.
Soon there will be buttons. We do not know which to push, but we will figure it out.
His friend Blades would have helped. Unit 74 wouldn’t have doubted that; if it had crossed his mind to ask, but he'd gotten it in his processor to strike out on his own. There hadn't been consideration beyond that.
Nearly there, he tried an experimental reach, freeing one servo to stretch his arm as far as it would go.
Everything was big again.
Giant chairs, massive assorted items on the table, even just the space itself was expansive. How overwhelming it must have been to the natives of the planet, to stand in the presence of literal titans, and yet, to the yellow minicon, it felt right.
On digitigrade pedes, Unit 74 stood, potentially lost to the shadows of meager Cybertronian furnishings. Pausing at the entrance to the rec room he became that much smaller; the cleaning unit settled down till he stood on his whole foot as most mecha did. In the early hours of the morning, many were likely in recharge, the lighting reduced to save energy and foster a sense of time within the walls of the base. Peaceful, fostering introspection on this new home. . He took it in, content to no longer be alone.
We have found our friends, but there are no brothers here.
He reflected that It was better with 'brothers', having many units made the work easier... but he hadn't seen them , not for a long time. For a click, anxious digits drummed together. There weren't words he knew to understand the feelings simmering in his spark, but the thoughts that upset him vanished almost as quickly as they had come. The emotions attached to them dissolving, as Seventy-four spotted the thing he was looking for. Bouncing back up onto his toes, the Minicon broke into a smile.
Rather than crossing in the open, he kept to the wall, until he reached his goal, the energon dispenser. Helm tipped back, he sized up the distance, a shift of his pedes helping move his processor along as excitement wormed its way through his fidgeting limbs.
The coast was clear, giving him a moment before he was holding anyone up.
It is not as high up as most friends. Easy!
Lowering himself, he sprang a good distance, servos tagging the wall, to stick against the surface. Gentle claws twitched without leaving a single mark, as his pedes sorted themselves out once more, the padding of his soles, and his joint wheels adding to his grip. With confidence he continued up, scaling the side towards the panel used to work out one's rations.
Soon there will be buttons. We do not know which to push, but we will figure it out.
His friend Blades would have helped. Unit 74 wouldn’t have doubted that; if it had crossed his mind to ask, but he'd gotten it in his processor to strike out on his own. There hadn't been consideration beyond that.
Nearly there, he tried an experimental reach, freeing one servo to stretch his arm as far as it would go.