[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Catching Up [Closed]
Dec 16, 2022 23:01:33 GMT -5
Post by Optimus Prime on Dec 16, 2022 23:01:33 GMT -5
Episode 3 | Week 4 | Day 4
When would the line be drawn? At what point would the only new humans within Omega One be those appointed by Agent Fowler? Perhaps it was a blessing they were only up to four civilians, not including the newest addition, instead of far more given the time spent and how many Autobots were around... Yet, that was still four too many in his opinion. While the children assisted with moral and offered insights that were priceless in helping them blend in that much better, in the end, they were children that had gotten lodged within a seemingly endless war. One that had chewed apart countless planets beneath its continuous flame. They were in far more danger than they likely realized, even if they thought they understood the absolute nightmare they were getting snagged and tangled within.
Now here they were.
Another added to the roster.
So badly did Optimus wish that incidents were reported to Fowler for him to take care of through his means instead. Assist with a cover story or find means to keep things low so it did not spread like wildfire. Yet, no. His Autobots had brought them to the base, where they not only got a first-hand view of more than one Cybertronian in their root form, but also the technology that came at its heel in the form of the Ground Bridge and other tech within the main area. It was headache-inducing, and it was thrown atop the sea of far more pressing matters which meant that he hadn't had a chance to even ADDRESS the situation as of yet.
Optimus wasn’t even certain he even had all the relevant information to even try to do so.
It was what it was. Nothing could change what had been done, and the only path was to keep going forward to try to clean things up and get everything back in line once more. It was with this mindset that Optimus had summoned their latest human, intending to not only meet them for the first time but potentially lay down some groundwork that would be required should she intend to linger as the children did. He simply hoped that she favored the idea of staying out of things and wishing to go back to her normal days before finding out there were aliens around, and if not? He hoped she was at least a soul who could try to keep the children... or more... Miko... in line, rather than add fuel to the fire.
Standing within the Control Room, Optimus was keeping himself occupied while waiting, which was both to continue to be productive and look into the situation with Patch, as much as it was to keep his mind off of the injuries that he was trying to brute force ignore from the day previously. It was a skill that he had cultivated well throughout this war, learning quickly that to show weakness or overt pain was not only a way to empower those who brought such injury upon him, but also demoralize those who looked to him for strength and a leading force. It left him ignoring what would cause others to suffer, the damage upon his frame as fresh as it was gnarled.
The entire curving shape of Optimus' left shoulder appeared as though it had been absolutely decimated by a series of explosive strikes, numerous indents and punches pushing in its outermost shelled frame into a chewed-up variant. While the general shape managed to survive, to an extent, its details were obliterated, one of the side fins crooked down and bent, while the other angled up and back with a piece of it missing. The chrome Autobot brand that typically was welded on display, was completely missing, leaving behind an array of blistered and blackened red paint that cracked and peeled at the edges.
Similar marring from the outer edges of whatever had occurred, also speckled at the top edge of Optimus' forearm guard, though it was significantly less notable than the armor above it which had undergone even more damage after the concussive force. Coring through this angular surface was a single line that revealed silver, leading down to the edge of the pauldron to leave a mar of the upper arm below.
These were not the only injuries he sustained, though it was the most overtly obvious, the others consisting of a ring of claw marks that encircled his lower makeshift ribcage, and some liniar grooves and cuts from shrapnel.
Nothing could be done beyond basic triage; it was what it was and there was no getting around that. So, as awful as he may look, Optimus carried on, as usual, waiting to see just who got roped into this war next, and what new life he was now forced to look after while also dealing with everything else on this damn planet.
When would the line be drawn? At what point would the only new humans within Omega One be those appointed by Agent Fowler? Perhaps it was a blessing they were only up to four civilians, not including the newest addition, instead of far more given the time spent and how many Autobots were around... Yet, that was still four too many in his opinion. While the children assisted with moral and offered insights that were priceless in helping them blend in that much better, in the end, they were children that had gotten lodged within a seemingly endless war. One that had chewed apart countless planets beneath its continuous flame. They were in far more danger than they likely realized, even if they thought they understood the absolute nightmare they were getting snagged and tangled within.
Now here they were.
Another added to the roster.
So badly did Optimus wish that incidents were reported to Fowler for him to take care of through his means instead. Assist with a cover story or find means to keep things low so it did not spread like wildfire. Yet, no. His Autobots had brought them to the base, where they not only got a first-hand view of more than one Cybertronian in their root form, but also the technology that came at its heel in the form of the Ground Bridge and other tech within the main area. It was headache-inducing, and it was thrown atop the sea of far more pressing matters which meant that he hadn't had a chance to even ADDRESS the situation as of yet.
Optimus wasn’t even certain he even had all the relevant information to even try to do so.
It was what it was. Nothing could change what had been done, and the only path was to keep going forward to try to clean things up and get everything back in line once more. It was with this mindset that Optimus had summoned their latest human, intending to not only meet them for the first time but potentially lay down some groundwork that would be required should she intend to linger as the children did. He simply hoped that she favored the idea of staying out of things and wishing to go back to her normal days before finding out there were aliens around, and if not? He hoped she was at least a soul who could try to keep the children... or more... Miko... in line, rather than add fuel to the fire.
Standing within the Control Room, Optimus was keeping himself occupied while waiting, which was both to continue to be productive and look into the situation with Patch, as much as it was to keep his mind off of the injuries that he was trying to brute force ignore from the day previously. It was a skill that he had cultivated well throughout this war, learning quickly that to show weakness or overt pain was not only a way to empower those who brought such injury upon him, but also demoralize those who looked to him for strength and a leading force. It left him ignoring what would cause others to suffer, the damage upon his frame as fresh as it was gnarled.
The entire curving shape of Optimus' left shoulder appeared as though it had been absolutely decimated by a series of explosive strikes, numerous indents and punches pushing in its outermost shelled frame into a chewed-up variant. While the general shape managed to survive, to an extent, its details were obliterated, one of the side fins crooked down and bent, while the other angled up and back with a piece of it missing. The chrome Autobot brand that typically was welded on display, was completely missing, leaving behind an array of blistered and blackened red paint that cracked and peeled at the edges.
Similar marring from the outer edges of whatever had occurred, also speckled at the top edge of Optimus' forearm guard, though it was significantly less notable than the armor above it which had undergone even more damage after the concussive force. Coring through this angular surface was a single line that revealed silver, leading down to the edge of the pauldron to leave a mar of the upper arm below.
These were not the only injuries he sustained, though it was the most overtly obvious, the others consisting of a ring of claw marks that encircled his lower makeshift ribcage, and some liniar grooves and cuts from shrapnel.
Nothing could be done beyond basic triage; it was what it was and there was no getting around that. So, as awful as he may look, Optimus carried on, as usual, waiting to see just who got roped into this war next, and what new life he was now forced to look after while also dealing with everything else on this damn planet.