[ti]Ep 3.5[/ti]Oh Well [Nue, Windshield]

[Nue]

Episode 3.5 | Week 1 | Day 5 | Closed

The cool Oregon morning air swept over the Steens Mountain range- Nue figured that’s what was going on outside anyhow. He wasn’t outside enjoying the breeze, no. He was dragging himself across the grey stone floors of these grey stone corridors peppered with grey metal beams.

Grey, grey, grey; drab, boring, lifeless.

The indomitable warship of the Decepticons stood strong for the entire millennium Nue spent separated from the faction, and instead of meeting its glorious brooding halls, he was greeted with a dinky little mountain outpost and informed that the Nemesis crashed into the ocean five or so months ago. In hard times a beggar cannot be a chooser, but this? Depressing. The life of a cave hermit sat at the very bottom of Nue’s list of desires for returning to the Decepticon ranks. Even the utilitarian habs and stations of Kaon trumped this backwater in style.

The bot stopped his sulking stroll over the base's interior decorating and let out a muted sigh. In front of him, to his left, stood the quarters assigned to him not long after his arrival. Apparently he would be rooming with one other bot for the time being. Not his preferred arrangement, but one is better than two or three. Time for first impressions. Grandiose? Sulking? No no...A simple, concise, and friendly introduction would do the job well enough. He affixed his award winning smile to his lips, hooked his left hand to his hip, and took a few confident strides through the doorway with his eyes shut.

“Greetings comrade! My name is Nue, and I shall be your roommate for the time being.” He said in a cheery voice as he raised his large, clawed, arm and tucked it to his chest with a courteous bow.

[Windshield]

Mirrors... Sometimes, they could be cruel, unkind things. There was one here too—mounted on the far wall across from his recharge slab. He didn't remember who put it there, whether it was him or some other forgotten tenant. Though, the way it conspired to mock him every morning and every evening, he suspected that it hung there by his own design. Staring into its surface, his bust a portrait on a gray blank slate, Windshield couldn't help but feel his age today. He stood up, he moved closer to the mirror.

Closer, closer still... Oh, he was so very close now, but what to do? What to do? One part of him wanted to break it, shatter it into a million pieces in a fit of rage, to fill his soft wired joints with broken glass and press tight with his claws until the pain had become him—to laugh at it all. Another part of him simply wanted to look, wanted to stare at the mirror until something changed by its own accord. Day in, day out, it stared and nothing ever changed, stuck in an eternal limbo. It had no need of pain, it had no need of laughter. It only ever wanted the mirror.

The last part of him wanted to reach out, to touch the mech on the other side, to feel him hand-by-hand, to cry and to forgive, to love the self. It never won this tired old argument. It may never do so, for it wants the impossible. Much easier to stare for hours without end, to fill one's hands with molten sand, to be alone—but then...

Ah, someone was approaching. He scarcely noticed, so consumed in the mirror self. There came a voice, booming, enthusiastic. In the dark recesses of his memory, something so fleetingly familiar about it—where, oh where, was it coming from? He turned around sharply, breaking his focus on the mirror at once. He saw it bow and he smiled in return a weak smile.

He did not recognize him at first. It's been so long. But somewhere, in those distant memories drifting amidst the acid fumes, swimming through the chemical delirium-soup, he saw its face.

"Ah, it's you."

[Nue]

The bot stayed bowed for a second as the voice of the response ping ponged around inside his memory. He rose slowly and opened his piercing optics to stare at Windshield. They widened and blinked once, twice, three times in succession, and Nue's lips peeled back into a wicked grin of childlike glee. Now this was a friend he had not thought about in a long, long, time.

"Oh me oh my oh me- could it be true? Windy, is that really you?"
His formal demeanor shifted on a dime. He rushed to Windshield's side, arms outstretched towards the noticeably shorter mech. The liquid running through his arm's tubing churned as he moved as well. From deep within his core, newly synthesized venom pushed to his fingertips. It was subconscious, an unearthed habit previously buried under millennia of inactivity.

"It's so good to see you! How have you been, what have you been up to? Anything exciting transpire since last we spoke?" He lowered his voice to a hushed whisper. "In need of another dose? I could probably fix you up some Syk once I get access to a laboratory...Unless you need something stronger, right now~?"

Without much of a warning, He brought a hooked claw to linger right in front of Windshield's face. A purple bead of liquid oozed ever so gently from the tip. Delicious poison, just as likely to give you the highest trip of your life as it is to make you regret ever being created.

"You know I always have the best, just for you!"

[Windshield]

A step back, then another. Hesitance. Weakness, quickly dismissed. He could not be caught off-guard, not by familiar faces or honeyed words or delicate, delicious poisonous claws. The offer was tempting. Very tempting. His first instinct was to squint suspiciously, his second instinct was to gulp at the sight of those swirling chemicals—those delectable, swirling chemicals. They could make him feel anything or nothing for a token price. Yes, he needed it. That nothing or that everything. If he faced the mirror like that then...

Ah, now that it was here, it would not leave. Not it nor the craving for they both were one and the same.

"I've been... busy," he responded in a measured voice, that empty smile not leaving his face for a moment. "I'm glad to see you've made it, but maybe another time, y'know?"

He lied, of course. Glad was... not quite the correct expression. Surprised? Certainly. Disarmed? Maybe. But in truth, what he felt the most was neither surprise nor happiness, but a creeping worry. One would not know this just by looking at him. He was ever so good at playing it cool, seeming like exactly the kind of person that Nue truly was. But he knew.

Now that it was back with its little vials and its fumes, it would not leave him so easily.

Windshield wondered how Nue would feel had it also known—known that he'd taken barely anything at all ever since coming to this planet. And worse yet, that when he did, it had nearly killed him. Would it even care? All it ever seemed to care about was the next dose, not whether it would be the last. Oh, his mind was torn, standing in front of that bleak mirror.

[Nue]

Nue's clawed hand dropped to his side, and he stood upright- finally removing himself from Windshield's personal bubble. His optics remained fixed on the other bot. The expression of glee, however, melted into...Genuine confusion? No matter what he was feeling, he begun to pace around Windshield. Studying him no doubt, inspecting him, in the way a beast does with its prey. What were his strengths, his weaknesses?

How could he break the poor bot?

"Well that's not the Windy I remember," he said with a furrowed brow and a pout. "You used to drink it right up without a moment's hesitation. Your desperation was so adorable that it's hard to forget...You've changed since then, but to what degree?"

His gaze narrowed and drilled straight into his spark. It was a piercing gaze he held for a moment...

And then it was gone the next. Nue turned and began narcissistically inspecting himself in the mirror.

"Ah well, I look forward to getting reacquainted with you, Windy. I would be a dirty liar if I said I hadn't missed your company to some degree." Nue turned briefly to look at him again and offered the bot a smile. "You were always different from the rest of these murderers and thieves."

[Windshield]

He smiled back—or rather, he kept on smiling. Soft, constant. It was a stark contrast to his sharp features and those intense, fiery optics. They were not like this before, were they? Lost, wandering... That's how Nue would remember them. Now, they were focused, a candlelight giving his dark features a distinction previously unseen. Their concentric rings followed Nue everywhere as he paced around the old acquaintance. They locked eventually, a flame to a serpent, but just as soon, the moment was gone. Using the reprieve from its attention to his advantage, Windshield sat on the side of his berth when Nue turned away and there it would see him when he looked back.

"Oh, come now, you say that like being a thief or a murderer is a bad thing," he chortled.

You were always different...

Windshield shifted slightly on the bed, pressing his hands firmly against the edges. Then, he continued in a more tempered voice: "It's been a rough few centuries, Nue. I think we've got a lot of catching up to do."

Different.

Was he? Maybe back when they first met, but he couldn't remember that time. It all felt so long ago. Since then, there were other people in his life and they all faded away like so many embers in the wind. He was not so sure what difference it made that Nue did not fade as well. He hadn't seen him do all those things he went on to do, kill all those people he did, even his own mentor. Though his smile did not waver at the thought of it, his hands curled sharply around the edges of the bed and his claws dug deeply from the bottom, scratching perfectly and silently at worn-out grooves.

"Honestly, I didn't think I'd see you again," he confessed with surprising ease, "You never struck me as someone who cared too much about the whole Decepticon thing."

[Nue]

He hummed quietly to himself while his eyes trailed up and down his most exemplary form. His head tilted up and to the side. It was best angle from which he could properly observe Windshield in the reflection, but he didn't focus much on him in actuality. Though it was a mind bogglingly long time ago, it's hard to forget his optics rarely parting from his target. Was he letting down his guard? Had he changed too?

The suggestion of a lack of care at their shared faction caused him to turn and face Windshield however.
"Why, Windy, I'm offended!" He exclaimed with mock shock. "I know I'm not the most sycophantic fool out there, but I care a great deal about the cause! Lord Megatron gave me a clear purpose to utilize my specialties for, and I'm more than happy with that station."

Nue bared his claws, letting small drops of poison pool at the very tips before falling to the ground with a soft hiss of hot chemical against the hab's floor.

"I get to make all sorts of delightfully devious poisons and break bots into a miserable little pile with their secrets laid bare. I couldn't wish for a better life!"

[Windshield]

"Yes, yes. Your life is perfect. Good for you and all that," Windshield replied curtly and rolled his shoulders, the tips of his claws still picking at the grooves in his recharge slab. His optics narrowed in response to the sudden turnabout glance before shifting aside to watch Nue's back through the mirror. A spy's habit, perhaps, to see things and people from a different perspective.

"Almost makes one wonder why it took you so long to come back, hm?" He mused idly, words laced with indignation carrying lengthily across the echoing room. Though, were one to hazard an educated guess, the intentions behind his words were anything but idle. It has been so, so many years. Windshield could never know how much his old acquaintance may have changed. He certainly did.

[Nue]

Nue flashed nothing more than a sneer at Windshield's probing- at least from the front. The mirror's view of his back revealed the tubing in his deltoids quivering as venom pulsed violently from deep within the con's core. Even dwelling on his previous life situation proved irritating, and now this...junkie was questioning his resolve to the cause? Oh how it lit a fire in him.

"Simple, Windy- I didn't have much of a choice on the matter...Being stranded on Cybertron in the wake of the exodus and all that. Had I the opportunity to board the Nemesis before its departure, this wouldn't be a topic of conversation."

A hiss rumbled in his voice box with his retort; it would seem Windshield struck a bit of a nerve in his old acquaintance.

[Windshield]

"Well, for what it's worth, you wouldn't be the first one we've lost in the chaos... Or the last, really," Windshield continued in an even tone. That smile he wore remained gentle even though he sensed the bitterness boil inside his old acquaintance. Going by his lips alone, it would be difficult to guess that he felt anything but comfort and serenity. In stark contrast, however, his optics maintained their intensity—burning.

It was a slow fire, eating away at the Spark.

"But that doesn't explain why you're here now of all times." Windshield finally stopped picking at the bed and crossed his arms across his chest. "Got held up somewhere, did you?" He tilted his head ever so slightly to the left. It was a quizzical gesture, and were it not for his intense optics, it would have seemed entirely unserious.

[Nue]

The bot's gaze locked with Windshield's burning orbs, a serpent to a flame. A moment of rising tension as Nue picked up exactly what his new roommate was attempting to do. He broke the stare and threw up his arms in a shrug.

"I was hoping to save swapping scars for a more intimate moment some time in the future, but I guess we can skip the foreplay."
Nue started pacing around the room as he continued, "If you must know the specifics, I simply had no way of contacting the Nemesis. Stranded and left to waste away on that desolate rock, I feared my time had come..."
He leaned backward and pressed his palm against his forehead in mock faint.
"-But then! A savior! A scrapper ship come to pick at the corpse of our home. I charmed my way aboard and secured passage offworld- But they were attacked by pirates! I offered them my talents in exchange for a place on the crew."

[Windshield]

While Nue explained, Windshield unfurled his arms and raised them, at first almost as if he was mimicking him—until they promptly hid behind the back of his neck-plate. He swung his legs up on the bed, crossed them, and leaned back into it with his forearms for a pillow. "I'm guessing the pirate thing didn't work out?" Casual, partly a statement, partly a question. Windshield was familiar with how other species treated Cybertronians. He kept his optics on Nue as it paced around the room, to the left, to the right—always there, always watching it slither.

Of course, he was also familiar with Nue—once—and he knew that being on his good side could be only marginally more tolerable than being on his bad side. This, he wouldn't speak out loud. Nue did not need to concern itself with how negatively Windshield once viewed its role in his life through the passage of time. They were fellow Decepticons then as they were now. That's all that mattered for the moment as far as he was concerned. Still, he could not help but wonder whether or not the pirates simply got fed up with Nue and ditched him.

It was a rather strange time to return after all that.

[Nue]

He quickly threw his arms up in response and painted his face with extreme irritation.
"They were the worst! Everybody wants a poison master until you actually use the fraggin' poisons! They kept saying my methods were "too unethical" and scrap like that."

Nue huffed and puffed about the room before sitting on the free edge of space on Windshields bunk. Even if the bot was playing up for the sake of entertainment, the slight twitch in one of his optics made it clear that the anger was genuine.

"Sure they kept me alive and I managed to mostly skirt by without getting kicked out- but it eventually became clear that my days there were numbered. I was hoping that getting into the ship's comm systems would let me contact a rival group to pick me up instead...But I found out that a request had been put out on Decepticon frequencies for yours truly. Our dear Lord Megatron had need of an expert in chemical warfare and wanted only the best! So I sent my coordinates, and the rest is history."

[Windshield]

Windshield closed his optics briefly, though for longer than he'd done all evening, as if he was pondering something.

"Well," he exhaled sharply, adjusting his arms behind his head, "At least you'll be hearing none of that from him."

He paused, smiling at Nue from the back of his bed.

"If anything, I'm sure he'll put you to work on his next war crime right away," Windshield dislodged one of his hands from under his back and lifted it against the sharp fluorescent light of the room, inspecting the shiny black tips of his claws. "Rumor is, he's been getting into Dark Energon lately—if you can believe that."

The agent scoffed briefly, though seemingly not out of disrespect towards Megatron but rather due to his general apathy towards the whole affair. Either he cared too little about what Megatron did and didn't do or he cared too much and was playing it up to protect himself from thinking too hard about the implications for the rest of them. For him, Nue, the Vehicons—for every little name that wouldn't even make the footnotes in a ledger.

The stuff the Decepticons got up to while he was in stasis, it beggared belief.

[Nue]

The bot ceased his gesticulating and pontificating nigh immediately. Did he hear that correctly? Dark Energon? Just like that, Nue the manipulative snake clocked out, and Nue the scientist now took the position instead. The scientist, of course, couldn't help but let his optics light up like some sort of purple christmas tree when a new piece of material dangles right in front of his vision.

"Dark Energon, you say?" He said as he turned to look at Windshield. "That's impossible. It was ever only a myth, a set of equations that only existed on a scratchboard! I've seen scientists go mad just trying to prove its existence, let alone even try to unearth it."

He slammed both of his hands against the sides of the bunk and leaned towards Windshield.

"It exists?"

Nue stared intently at his roommate; his optic's pupils constricted into a laser fine point. The mysterious, dangerous, material long eluded the poison master's grasp. Not only did it exist, but his superior was actively dabbling in it? Now Windshield possessed his full and undivided attention, and Nue would absolutely cling to whatever he said next.