Ep.1 - Mindless (Legion)
Sept 26, 2013 14:01:25 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Sept 26, 2013 14:01:25 GMT -5
Here's the thing about frontliners: No matter who they are, where they're from or how thoroughly they've gotten themselves slagged, not a damn one of them is any good at sitting still. Medics theorized it was a new flavor of survival instinct, the logical extension of coding impulses designed to keep heavy hitters online under extreme duress. If a living wall had sustained damage, it was a statistical near-certainty they'd be called upon to do so again in short order. Post-repair restlessness was an expected, albeit irritating, side-effect of combat systems clawing their way back towards full operational status.
Legion knew all of that, of course- medics seemed to think whacking him upside the helm with numbers and statistics might bring him to heel- and couldn't bring himself to give a single slag. Knowing why he kept twitching didn't make said twitches stop. Wandering around base, on the other servo... well, even that didn't totally kill the sensation of ants under his armor, but it was sure as slag better than the alternative.
...In theory it was gentle enough an activity to keep medical grumbling to a minimum, too, but Legion didn't hold much hope for that. Ratchet tended to take offense at his patients being even remotely ambulatory days after a major repair job.
Medically-sanctioned or no, haunting the hallways was a truly stellar way to meet people. People like the unfamiliar figure visible outside one of the base's ubiquitous storage rooms. Light frame, semi-tall, black armor, gouge marks here, there and everywhere... There weren't many Autobots who fit that description, and only one whose name was flagged in the data-base as 'active on Earth'. Grinning, Legion meandered down the hallway to check his guess.
"Crossfire, righ'? 'm Legion- y'need some help in there?"
Legion knew all of that, of course- medics seemed to think whacking him upside the helm with numbers and statistics might bring him to heel- and couldn't bring himself to give a single slag. Knowing why he kept twitching didn't make said twitches stop. Wandering around base, on the other servo... well, even that didn't totally kill the sensation of ants under his armor, but it was sure as slag better than the alternative.
...In theory it was gentle enough an activity to keep medical grumbling to a minimum, too, but Legion didn't hold much hope for that. Ratchet tended to take offense at his patients being even remotely ambulatory days after a major repair job.
Medically-sanctioned or no, haunting the hallways was a truly stellar way to meet people. People like the unfamiliar figure visible outside one of the base's ubiquitous storage rooms. Light frame, semi-tall, black armor, gouge marks here, there and everywhere... There weren't many Autobots who fit that description, and only one whose name was flagged in the data-base as 'active on Earth'. Grinning, Legion meandered down the hallway to check his guess.
"Crossfire, righ'? 'm Legion- y'need some help in there?"