Ep1 - 'Sad Kitty, Hurt Kitty' - Closed
Aug 19, 2012 15:27:32 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Aug 19, 2012 15:27:32 GMT -5
<<Set after 'Awkward Family Moments'>>
The 'public' ground bridge co-ordinates for the DMZ placed visitors on the outside ledge of the mountain base, wide enough for even the largest mechs as the Nemesis had routinely elevated energon from the point when the mine had still been active. Visting mecha had to walk a hairpin bend after entering, an architectural design that kept the high winds out of the base proper, and then come to a stop alongside the weapons locker just inside.
Haven wasn't officially 'open' yet, only sanctioned as a DMZ and thus a work-in-progress safety zone along the front line of the war. The weapons locker was unmanned as labor went in to building the place, and traffic wasn't so high as to necessitate having a mecha constantly on the door. Besides which, the bar wasn't finished for such mecha to spend the credits earned for the 'locker work.
Currently the locker worked as little other than an automatic door bell, the bank of sensors calibrated to pick out every interpretation of a weapon system on a frame now tasked with just pinging arrivals if the mecha didn't announce themselves beforehand. It had gone off when the cassette padded inside, a short, cheery blurt to the one it had detected sounding in the same instant as Cleaver's processor was pinged.
Nursing a cube so packed with supplements it had turned black, Cleaver left Gasket tinkering with a panel that wouldn't quite line up and made towards the locked. Recognising the small, four-legged and tail-swishing shadow, she called out with a smile.
"Wasn't expecting you back until tomorrow, Steeljaw. Figured you'd be up to your audios in work what with half the 'bots post-cratered and grinding about-" She cut off upon laying optics on the cassette, and the slant of an apologetic smile dried up when her sensors fed back a reasonably long list of system-complaints. "Here for some help?"
It was a small victory that the carrying femme did not just pick up the small Decepticon and press him to her heated plates.
The 'public' ground bridge co-ordinates for the DMZ placed visitors on the outside ledge of the mountain base, wide enough for even the largest mechs as the Nemesis had routinely elevated energon from the point when the mine had still been active. Visting mecha had to walk a hairpin bend after entering, an architectural design that kept the high winds out of the base proper, and then come to a stop alongside the weapons locker just inside.
Haven wasn't officially 'open' yet, only sanctioned as a DMZ and thus a work-in-progress safety zone along the front line of the war. The weapons locker was unmanned as labor went in to building the place, and traffic wasn't so high as to necessitate having a mecha constantly on the door. Besides which, the bar wasn't finished for such mecha to spend the credits earned for the 'locker work.
Currently the locker worked as little other than an automatic door bell, the bank of sensors calibrated to pick out every interpretation of a weapon system on a frame now tasked with just pinging arrivals if the mecha didn't announce themselves beforehand. It had gone off when the cassette padded inside, a short, cheery blurt to the one it had detected sounding in the same instant as Cleaver's processor was pinged.
Nursing a cube so packed with supplements it had turned black, Cleaver left Gasket tinkering with a panel that wouldn't quite line up and made towards the locked. Recognising the small, four-legged and tail-swishing shadow, she called out with a smile.
"Wasn't expecting you back until tomorrow, Steeljaw. Figured you'd be up to your audios in work what with half the 'bots post-cratered and grinding about-" She cut off upon laying optics on the cassette, and the slant of an apologetic smile dried up when her sensors fed back a reasonably long list of system-complaints. "Here for some help?"
It was a small victory that the carrying femme did not just pick up the small Decepticon and press him to her heated plates.