[ti]Ep 3.5[/ti]Captive Audience [Closed]
Dec 30, 2022 21:12:11 GMT -5
Post by Knock Out on Dec 30, 2022 21:12:11 GMT -5
Episode 3.5 | Week 1 | Day 1
Directly after Bridge
-
While the other mech’s introduction to the room had been something of a show and entertaining in its own right, the hours - or at least it felt like hours - that’d dragged on since the door had been closed behind them both had been anything but.
He’d learned the name of his fellow prisoner during the scuffle, however his attempts to get Carbine’s attention for conversation via the use of his designation and normal chatter hadn’t gone well at all.
Unable to get a good look at the damage to the other mech, given they were in different cells, he couldn’t tell just how hurt he actually was after taking a rather significant faceplant straight into the wall.
Questions - and there had been lots of them, at least in the first hour or so, mostly about Carbine - had been met with snarled, laced static that hadn’t made any sense. The fact the other mech was up and about, pacing around his own meager confines was probably a good thing, though he couldn’t quite work out if his own words were completely understood, or simply being met with noise to show that the other mech had heard.
These static pops had been responded to with genuine - if a little sarcastic - replies at first, with Knock Out finding some humor in the situation, trying to find some sort of reply in the crackled fuzz, trying to goad the other mech into getting annoyed enough to snap with what he’d actually tried to say. It hadn’t worked, of course, and knowing he was probably going to be down here for a while with this guy? He’d given up on that fast.
Didn’t want to be too annoying, after all.
Another silver lining of this situation, he supposed, was that Carbine was alright to look at. He wasn’t exactly his type, but at least he wasn’t down here by himself - and hey, a mech in ‘uniform’? Well, he wasn’t complaining, nor could he really be picky... unless they felt like bringing down more prisoners that were more for what he looked for.
Though of course, he was only looking.
Or at least, he had been, until even that got boring. He wasn’t sure how long had truly passed, having no sense of time down here in who even knows where, but he found himself sprawled on the pathetic excuse of a berth, counting the imperfections in the ceiling once more.
Now, though, the silence - well, aside from the constant buzz of the electric fields on the doors - was getting to him again.
A vented sigh escaped him, before he spoke - again.
“Don’t suppose you feel like talking yet, do you?” a glance was given across the way as he asked.
He knew the answer would be more static, it had been the other million times he’d attempted to stir up some sort of conversation, however he was anything but a quitter, and even the sound of his own voice was better than this annoying, lingering silence.
Directly after Bridge
-
While the other mech’s introduction to the room had been something of a show and entertaining in its own right, the hours - or at least it felt like hours - that’d dragged on since the door had been closed behind them both had been anything but.
He’d learned the name of his fellow prisoner during the scuffle, however his attempts to get Carbine’s attention for conversation via the use of his designation and normal chatter hadn’t gone well at all.
Unable to get a good look at the damage to the other mech, given they were in different cells, he couldn’t tell just how hurt he actually was after taking a rather significant faceplant straight into the wall.
Questions - and there had been lots of them, at least in the first hour or so, mostly about Carbine - had been met with snarled, laced static that hadn’t made any sense. The fact the other mech was up and about, pacing around his own meager confines was probably a good thing, though he couldn’t quite work out if his own words were completely understood, or simply being met with noise to show that the other mech had heard.
These static pops had been responded to with genuine - if a little sarcastic - replies at first, with Knock Out finding some humor in the situation, trying to find some sort of reply in the crackled fuzz, trying to goad the other mech into getting annoyed enough to snap with what he’d actually tried to say. It hadn’t worked, of course, and knowing he was probably going to be down here for a while with this guy? He’d given up on that fast.
Didn’t want to be too annoying, after all.
Another silver lining of this situation, he supposed, was that Carbine was alright to look at. He wasn’t exactly his type, but at least he wasn’t down here by himself - and hey, a mech in ‘uniform’? Well, he wasn’t complaining, nor could he really be picky... unless they felt like bringing down more prisoners that were more for what he looked for.
Though of course, he was only looking.
Or at least, he had been, until even that got boring. He wasn’t sure how long had truly passed, having no sense of time down here in who even knows where, but he found himself sprawled on the pathetic excuse of a berth, counting the imperfections in the ceiling once more.
Now, though, the silence - well, aside from the constant buzz of the electric fields on the doors - was getting to him again.
A vented sigh escaped him, before he spoke - again.
“Don’t suppose you feel like talking yet, do you?” a glance was given across the way as he asked.
He knew the answer would be more static, it had been the other million times he’d attempted to stir up some sort of conversation, however he was anything but a quitter, and even the sound of his own voice was better than this annoying, lingering silence.