[ti]Ep 3[/ti]'Chill Out' Redeco [ Closed ]

[Hot Rod]

Timeline:
Beginning Week 4, Day 2 through TBD

After Death Valley Dumpster Fire

---

[ᴅᴀʏ ᴏɴᴇ] 

"Tellin' ya, Rich, this is gonna be a huge payload if we can get it workin'."

"You don't even know why it isn't turning over."

Hot Rod heard two distinct voices coming from somewhere in the room. His head felt like a fishbowl and the voices seemed far away. Was it a 'objects in mirror are closer than they appear' kind of situation? Yes, yes it was, which was only made evident by the eerie feeling of a warm, five-fingered hand that tapped on his hood like it was trying to get his attention. He knew better than to move, not that he could even if he wanted to, which was probably a good thing considering that even that minor touch felt like his sensors were being indivigually tasted. 

"Yeah, well, I'm sure it has somethin' to do with what's under the hood. If I can figure out how to get under it. It's like whoever built this thing welded it shut to hide their secrets. But I'm gonna busy it open if it's the last thing I do!"

Under his hood? Good thing they couldn't get in. Humans really had no business exploring what was underneath there, that was for sure.

"If you damage it more than you intend to, it probably will be the last thing you do. Why don't you just sell it as is? I'm sure the frame alone is worth it in scrap."

"Clearly you don't understand the price points of a one-of-a-kind exclusive vehicle that is fully operational."

So it seemed that 'Scott' was the one hoping to score big by getting him working, while Rich was far more rational ( depending on who you asked ), to just cut the losses and sell him off as-is. While he wasn't too keen on the whole scrap part of that statement, but if it meant not having to be checked over and risk something being found that would give away the fact that he was far more than just your everyday custom vehicle, he'd take it. For now he just had to play it dumb and stay as dead in the water as possible. He was still exhausted from that run in with the con, where he'd overtaxed his systems. Even if he wanted to run, if he didn't take the time to recharge and get himself at least somewhat functional he'd never stand a chance. 

And he knew there were far more things to fear on this planet than just Decepticons. 

The two were talking amongst themselves again, sounding distant again. They left... wherever they were, wherever he was. He heard what sounded like a door closing and what may have been a lock? He was suddenly alone, quiet, in the dark. Usually it would bother him but he was far too tired for his mind to even correctly process his surroundings. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be a new day, and hopefully there would be some additional information he could get. For now he just shut down, taking the opportunity to rest.

[Hot Rod]

[ᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴡᴏ]

Hot Rod wasn't sure how many days had passed since his initial wake up call after the run in with the Decepticon. He'd hoped that he would have been able to figure out some sort of calendar of events or something, but any hopes of that had been coming up short. Humans did a bunch of yakking, but very little was actually any level of useful. It wasn't as if he could just ask what day of the week it was either, less he blow his cover and probably make things far worse for wear.

Speaking of such things, Hot Rod hadn't even seen the extent of damage done. All he knew was that his energon levels were pretty low and his self repair was even slower as a result. What he wouldn't give to pop in and annoy Ratchet, be yelled at for being young and far too hot headed...

All he could figure out so far was he was due for some cosmetic things, from what they were saying. He didn't know what sort of things they were planning, but he recalled one of them- Scott, from what he remembered of the names- mentioning some custom paint since he couldn't match what was already there. Not exactly, and if he were going to need to do an entire repaint anyway he'd pick something else.

He'd mentioned another name a couple of times, ? Yeah, that was it. From what Hot Rod was able to gather it must have been his daughter, who had recently fallen out of the sunflower yellow phase and just wanted everything purple- but a very particular shade. He was going to paint the new 'project car'- which Hot Rod figured had to be him since he was the only one that was in this weird box of a workshop- was going to be dedicated to her. Scott just needed to find an accent color to go over the yellow that would go with the shade he'd picked.

It wasn't until after they had closed up shop for the night that Hot Rod let out a soft hiss sound that could have been waved off as just settling. He couldn't transform or drive out of there, not with that annoying camera he spotted sitting in the corner of the room that was pointed at not only him, but the entrance to the garage. Probably to prevent thefts. Not that he'd get far even if he did manage to sneak out. Not yet.

This was turning out to be one of the most annoyingly stressful things he'd had to sit through. All he wanted to do was get out and move, yet he was stuck where he was parked due to several factors. Hopefully he could get out before this new paint job happened. He'd only known his bright yellows and oranges. The idea of having it changed was almost a whole other level of anxiety within itself.

Hot Rod was starting to think this Primus person was getting back at him for all his mockery.

[Hot Rod]

[ ᴅᴀʏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ / ꜰᴏᴜʀ ]

The day started being all the bit as awful as Hot Rod thought it would be.

He'd spent the night trying to transform but couldn't manage it with one side of his frame absolutely refusing to shift properly. He had odd gear hooked up to him, prrobably put on by the humans to prevent him from behing 'stolen', but he had also discovered some damage to the area above his wheel well where some of the metal had been jammed the wrong way which apparently was jamming one of his transformating gears. Resolved to being stuck in his alt mode, he shut down for the night to recharge some more. All he could really do was hope that the humans would actually get around to repairing that part of his frame so he could actually get back to normal since staying as a vehicle for as long as he had was starting to make parts of him ache. 

And what about the start to the day? Well, he'd been woken up by the sound of metal to metal clanking sounds and some really rough tugging and yanking on his vehicle framework. It was Scott, hard at work doing whatever on his own to him. There were pieces being moved around in directions they shouldn't go, whereas other parts were just being straight up removed and placed around various places in the room. He heard what sounded like an odd hiss, like air being forcefully removed from a tire, but somehow different. It wasn't until he caught sight of one of his 'parts' that he saw what it was.

An airbrush. 

His parts were being taken to a plastic wrapped area and sprayed an eeriely familiar purple color which made him flinch. A couple of passes over each part were made before Scott would go onto the next while waiting for the others to dry. Once all the parts were painted he turned his attention to the main body, which was Hot Rod himself, and the hissing commenced. He could feel where the paint was touching, as as much as he wanted to yell aloud to get this mayhem to stop, it wasn't worth it. Hot Rod didn't know the extend of his damage, plus he didn't know how a human would react to a vehicle he was working on like it was some sort of project car come to life. 

Probably not very well. So he just sat, hoping that maybe he would be granted some sort of blessing and be struck down by some freak lightening or carried off by a tornado. 

Neither of which happened, by the way. Instead he endured the painting, the mashing of parts, and the reapplication that started early in the day and continued well into the night. The next day was much the same, with little details being added here and there. Once he was reassembled his windows were covered in plastic and he was sprayed down with a super high gloss clear coat, which he assumed would be the final touch. 

Later in the day, garage door open slightly to help settle the fumes, was when he was alerted to the sound of the door opening and the sound of a new voice. This one wasn't like the two gruff men he'd gotten used to- this one was softer, higher pitched, and when he focused he saw that it was a kid. Scotts? Had to be, since he was the only one here now. Richard was absent, and had been for a couple days- actually hadn't seen him during the entire painting process. 

"Here she is, Morgan. What do you think? I painted her your favorite color." Scott was talking the little girl he was holding. So that must have been the inspiration for the color choice. Bravo apparent dad, even if Hot Rod hated it. 

"I love her, daddy! Can I drive her?!"

"Sure, honey, lets get you in the driver's seat." Scott walked to his side and opened the door, setting the little girl inside. She immediately handed her dad her teddybear, opting instead to grab the steering wheel and started making vroom vroom noises like she was pretending to drive. Scott walked away briefly to put something from his pocket down on one of the work tables.

Then she started coughing... and coughing... then wheezing...

Scott seemed worried and rushed over to his daughter's side to yank her out of the driver's seat. "I'm sorry honey, there must still be some fumes in here. Lets get you back to bed and we can try again tomorrow." He walked away, forgetting to close Hot Rod's door. Once the two humans were gone, he did so himself and just... sat. 

He wasn't sure what that was about, but he'd never seen Scott in such a hurry. That was for another day, right now the lights were finally off, it was dark out, and he needed to recharge.

[Hot Rod]

[ ᴅᴀʏ ꜰᴏᴜʀ ( ɴɪɢʜᴛ) ]

t Rod hadn't been in recharge very long when he suddenly came to, hearing a sound of a door opening, closing, and someone shifting around in the dark. Having been here long enough to learn routines, if it had been Scott he would have turned on a light, gotten what he needed, then left. This was someone else, someone who wanted to go unnoticed in the garage. Had someone broken in? No, couldn't have been that, or else they would have come in through the garage door, not the door leading to the rest of the home. It was someone from inside, but who, exactly?

That answer came in the form of a question from somewhere in the dark.

"Where are you?" A voice- Megan's voice. What was she doing in here? She'd been told she couldn't come in here because of paint fumes.

With the sound of things being moved around he could only imagine she was looking for something. But why would she be out here, of all places? She had only been in here once, so unless her dad had brought something in that she wanted, she really had no business in here looking around all the heavy tools and other dangerous things. He watched her as she moved within sight of his headlights so he could see exactly what she was up to. After looking around on the floor in a few places, she sighed and finally stood upright, a hand delicately being placed on the front of his grill, as she turned her eyes upward.

"There you are!" A hushed whisper of what Hot Rod assumed was excitement. He followered her movements as she went to a work bench and spotted something sitting there that he hadn't noticed before, but now that Morgan was apparently headed that way, he saw how out of place it was. 

A teddy bear. Maybe she'd left it here when she was in the garage earlier?

The small human child went to the bench and stretched her arms up as far as they would go. She barely reached the bottom of the table ledge, so any hopes of getting it herself clearly were out of her ability. Hot Rod figured she would go get her dad to grab her toy for her, so he started to shut down and expected to hear the door again. Instead something was being wheeled along the cement floor, which got his attention once more. He pivoted his side mirror to see, spotting her just off to the side grabbing one of the wheeling garage stools to pull it over to the table ahead of him again. He watched, having a bad feeling about all of this.

The moment she started to climb onto the stool, which was moving around under her, he felt his spark clench in its chamber. She managed to get herself on it on her knees but it had wheeled back from the table a bit and she had to reach forward to even have hopes of getting to it- and that's exactly what she did. She leaned forward a bit more, her little arm out as far as it would go, fingers splayed. A little further forward... more...

Then the stool tilted forward and the little human girl started to go right down with it.

Hot Rod didn't even have a chance to think about what he was doing, instinct kicking in as he revved his engine and drove forward and slightly to the side, almost bumping into the table itself and knocking the stool to the side. The moment his processor caught up he noticed a weight on his hood, only to then realize the girl was now sitting on it, having fallen there instead of clear to the dangerous cement floor where she would have hurt herself. 

... and she was staring at him, not making a sound, clearly knowing exactly what had just happened.

"You just... moved."

Scrap.

[Hot Rod]

[ ᴅᴀʏ ꜰᴏᴜʀ ( ɴɪɢʜᴛ) ]

"You just... moved."

Scrap.

Hot Rod tried to think of what to do in this situation. He was used to sitting around, hidng under cover until the coast was clear, so maybe that was the best option. Human children were easily distracted, so if he waited long enough maybe the kid's attention would go to something a little more shiny and far less boring, right? Oh boy, Hot Rod was about to let a lot ride on a theory, but what other choice did he really have?

The pair seemed to be at a stalemate with neither side giving in, Hot Rod keeping as still as a inoperable vehicle in a junk yard while the girl stared at him, leaning in to look through the windshield as if to try and see if there were some driver hidden within the darkness. When she didn't spot anyone she would return to just sitting, making faces that reflected the confusion she had over the situation. 

She seemed to give up then, turning around to slide down the slope of his hood carefully, her little feet pressed down in front of her to help scoot her along. When she reached the floor she spotted her bear on the floor just to the side, apparently having fallen off the table in the commotion. She picked it up and hugged it close, then looked right at Hot Rod's front, now within view of his headlights so he could stare right back. 

It was only a matter of time now-

THUNK.

The kid had hit him with something metallic, apparently having picked something else up that had fallen along with her teddy bear, and whacked Hot Rod *right* in the left headlight. It hadn't been hard enough to crack anything, considering his frame had been built to withstand Cybertronian firepower, but it had sent a sting through the pain receptor easily relatable to that of being punched in the eye. 

"HEY!" They both yelled in unison, and both immediately paused afterwards. 

Morgan had a smile on her face and pointed with the little makeshift weapon in her hand. A wrench. 

Hot Rod's cover had been blown by a child holding a wrench.

"I knew you had moved!" 

"Yeah, good for you kid, you figured it out. I moved."

"And you talk!" Oh boy, did she look mezmerized by that fact. 

"Clearly. But you can't tell your dad or anyone, okay?"

"Why not?"

"Because, you just... can't. There are really  bad people out there who do bad things, and those bad people would find me. So you can't say anything, got it?"

"So... it's like a secret?"

"Sure, it's like a secret. It'll be our little secret." Making a deal with a kid? No way this was going to work out. Hot Rod was going to need to find out how to get out of this sooner rather than later, before the wrong people found out. Not only for his sake, but if the Decepticons managed to somehow catch wind of this...

"Okay, our secret."

There was movement from inside the house then the door to the garage suddenly opened, the figure in the doorway basking in the bright glow of the light that flooded in. 

"Morgan?! Why are you out of bed? What are you doing out here?"

There was a moment of panic. Hot Rod could just feel his cover about to be blown-

"I was looking for Teddy, daddy, see?" Morgan held the bear out in front of her in both hands, which only got a sigh of relief from her dad who stepped into the garage and knelt down to pat her on the head, then stood with her held close to him. 

"Alright, Morgan, lets get you back to bed," he said to her, turning to walk back into the house. She had her chin on his shoulder, staring at Hot Rod where he was parked, her hand held up with her pinky out. He recognized the gesture as one he'd seen before from other humans. A promise? No words were said as the door closed, leaving him out there in silence once more. 

Pit be damned, Hot Rod was trusting a kid to keep quiet about all of this? No way this was going to turn out good for him- for either of them. 

[Hot Rod]

[ DAY FIVE ]

Day five was pretty uneventful. Most of the day was him spending the day by himself with the occassional visit from Scott, who didn't even pay him the slightest bit of attention- not that he cared, much preferring to be left alone to having hands all over him from dawn till dusk. Though he couldn't help but to notice that the human seemed distracted by something other than him. At various parts of the day he heard what sounded like two voices yelling, Scott and a female voice belonging to someone who he had never seen before, someone who was far older than the only other human- Morgan- who he'd seen.

Oh, to be a fly on the wall for some of it.

Later on into the night was when he was visited again by Morgan, who also seemed a bit off as well. She just sat on the floor of the garage, holding her bear as usual, far enough away from the door so their little conversation couldn't be heard as she whispered the best she could at him. 

"So what's your name?" she finally said, breaking the silence.

"My name?"

"Yeah. What does your mommy and daddy call you? Mine call me Morgan."

"Parents? I don't have any."

"Then your friends."

"Not... really sure I have any of those, either."

"So you're all by yourself?"

"It's really complicated. But they call me Hot Rod." Morgan made a face for some reason when she heard his name, one that could only be compared to someone being disgusted by something they smelled. "What's that face for?"

"Hot Rod sounds weird. It reminds me of something that my daddy watches at night when I'm supposed to be asleep."

Immediate wheels turning. There were only a couple late-night programs beyond child hour that she could have talked about- late night news, informercials, or 'entertainment'. Considering his name, what he'd experienced of said programming, his brain actually connected the dots faster than he'd ever made a connection before. Oh boy, did he hate his creators far more than he already did.

"Okay, that's kind of gross. Why in the hell wou-"

"No. Bad. Words."

"Are you serious? You just compared my name to something you clearly shouldn't be watching, and you wanna get on me for saying a 'bad word'? Ugh," he muttered various other words under his breath, making sure she couldn't understand nor clearly hear what he was saying or else she'd probably get on him for those either. It was best to just deal with all of this for now. He would be safely recharged soon and then he could leave without having to deal with her anymore so it didn't matter. Play along for the time being. "Why in the heck would you compare my name to something like that? Now it's gonna be weird saying it."

"I'll call you Roddy."

"That doesn't sound better to me."

"Better than Hot Rod."

"... Thanks for making me hate my own name, kid. Fine, whatever." Hot Rod- Roddy now, apparently, let out a long sigh. How he wished he could roll his eyes at this whole situation.

He was distracted by the sound of really hard coughing which was mixed with wheezing that he assumed was a result of the cough. Had the whispering gotten to her? No, this sounded like something else. It sounded like she was trying to cough something up, like she'd swallowed something that didn't go down all the way. Eventually they started to quiet down, a pattern of cough then wheezing becomming the new norm. Once she was done entirely she sat there on the floor holding her teddy bear close to her as she looked like she was trying to catch her breath. Should he honk his horn and get her dad's attention? He'd probably be a little suspicious then but he didn't really care, not when she looked they way she did. Then she stood up, pulling him from his train of thought. She put her little hand on his frame to steady herself as she started taking very slow steps along his side. She felt cold compared to when he'd had other human hands on him.

"Morgan? Hey, you okay?" She just nodded as a response, but he was still concerned. Why was she cold? Why did she look so weak? "Morgan?"

"Sorry, Roddy. I don't feel so good, so I'm gonna go to bed. Goodnight." 

"Uh, yeah... goodnight, Morgan." Hot Rod watched her go up those stairs, open the door, then walk back into the house and closed it behind her, leaving him alone in the garage again.

In the dark.

In the silence.